


Christmas 2013 Gift Fic Collection

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Knights Tale AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Anal Fingering, Artist Stiles, Body Worship, Christmas Crack, Christmas Fluff, Daddy!Derek, Darkness Around Stiles's Heart, Daydreaming, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Gen, Gift Fic, Human Derek Hale, Humor, Jock Derek, Kid Fic, King Derek Hale, M/M, Mates, Morning After, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Potter Derek, Romance, Schmoop, Secret Crush, Servant Stiles, Shy Derek, Silly, Spanking, TA Derek, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Wolf Derek, Wooing, daddy!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-06 08:42:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 23,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I do my best to write festive fics but this year, I wanted to do something a little different for Christmas. So between the 24th-26th December, I went around writing gift fics for a bunch of friends on anon. </p><p>All Sterek, varied ratings, different AU's. I wish I could have written more and for more people. Maybe next year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01\. For [dustofice](http://dustofice.tumblr.com)  
> Quick Sterek Christmas morning.

It's too early to be awake, especially on Christmas morning but the very fact that its Christmas morning (the first one they're spending together!) makes Stiles' eyes fly open. 

He blinks at the alarm clock, grinning when he realizes the day and time. Turning around, the human grins harder at the blanket hog that is his boyfriend curled into himself. All he can make out is Derek’s hair sticking out of the blue and white quilt.

"Derek." Stiles whispers, shifting closer to the werewolf so that he can run his hand through the werewolf's messy hair. He continues the petting until there's a soft sigh and tired grunt in reply, prompting Stiles to curl around Derek best he can. "Time to get up." He murmurs into the rumpled hair. "It's Christmas." 

Derek grunts once more before curling in more, away from Stiles and his awake self. "Still be Christmas a coupla hours later. Lemme sleep."

The werewolf's muffled complaint causes Stiles to chuckle and kiss his hair. "Okay. You sleep and I'll get breakfast started." Derek grunts, wriggling his way deeper into his warm nest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02\. For [stileshoechlin](http://stileshoechlin.tumblr.com)  
> Sterek with mutual pining and a side of obliviousness

The Derek who comes back to Beacon Hills is pretty much the opposite of the Derek Hale Stiles thought he knows. And to put it bluntly, it’s one hell of a change to deal with.

 

A _great_ change but it’s really jarring.

 

New Derek is relaxed - not as uptight, calmer, less prone to anger and roughly 400 percent more sassier. Oh the sarcasm that pours out of him is a thing of beauty when Derek's in the right mood. Stiles has learned the hard way not to drink anything around Derek lest he make an ill (or well) timed sarcastic comment that leaves Stiles choking on his drink.

 

And honestly speaking? Stiles really loves the new Derek. His whole relaxed demeanor makes it easier to hang out with him. Makes it so easy to visit him with a movie and pizza, swearing the werewolf is going to love this movie more than the last one. Easier still to sit down next to him on the overstuffed sofa so that their thighs touch and they’re eating popcorn from the same bowl.

 

It comes as little surprise when Stiles realizes he might have a tiny crush on new Derek. And by tiny he means quickly turning into the size of a giant weather balloon that’s taking him away into space! Stiles panics a great deal about Derek finding out, worries about the older man finding out and rants about how things were finally going well! How could his stupid heart do this to him!

 

He’s bemoaning this to Scott on Skype when someone raps on his window and Stiles freezes. There’s only two people who would come a-rapping like this and he’s talking with one of them on the phone which leaves...

 

He turns around slowly and comes face to face with a red faced Derek pointing at the locked window. Stiles debates keeping the window locked and hiding somewhere Derek can’t find him but ultimately unlocks the window and breathes out, “You know.”

 

The werewolf nods, face turning redder the longer Stiles looks at him. Stiles flails his arms in a ‘so what now?’ way which Derek reads as easy as ABC, slipping inside the room before grabbing Stiles’ face and pressing their dry lips together in a gentle kiss.

 

Body jerking in surprise, it takes Stiles a few seconds to catch up before he’s kissing Derek back, making a tiny sad noise when the werewolf pulls away to murmur, “Took you long enough to catch up.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 03\. For [thisbetabegood](http://thisbetabegood.tumblr.com)  
> Lazy mornings Sterek

Derek likes waking up early for a multitude of reasons. No amounts of Stiles’ grumblings can convince him otherwise.

 

He gets to start his day lazily - after doing a light workout to wake his body up along with his brain. He also gets time to make a good breakfast for himself, none of the cereal or Poptarts that Stiles prefers. But the very best thing about waking up before Stiles is getting a chance to observe his boyfriend as he sleeps peacefully next to him on their bed.

 

Derek loves waking up to the feel of pale skin pressing against his lips, smelling Stiles’ faint soap and clean sweat as his first inhale. He loves dragging a lazy hand down whatever part of Stiles is within his reach - hair, neck, cheek, arms, legs, waist, it doesn’t matter. Derek will connect one mole with another and another, drawing random patterns over Stiles’ skin before pressing lazy kiss to his cheek.

 

It’s easier when Stiles is facing him, then Derek aims for his moles. His fingers will touch every beauty mark in his reach, smiling how his gentle touch will make Stiles frown and shiver. But when Stiles is turned the other way, one hand tucked under his pillow, Derek gets up on one elbow and kisses Stiles’ ear instead. Stiles hates-loves kisses on his ear, yelping that he’s incredible sensitive there. He’s no different when sleeping. Derek always has to dodge a sleepy slap when he kisses sleeping Stiles’ ear, always. Most of the times he manages to dodge it but sometimes the palm catches him right in the middle of his face but Stiles is none the wiser as he dozes on, drooling into his pillow happily.

 

Derek will roll his eyes fondly, drag his fingers through Stiles’ hair one last time before rolling out of bed to start his morning routine of bicycle crunches, pushups, planks while thinking about what to make for breakfast and how he’d like to wake Stiles up today.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04\. For [bilinskiandthesourwolf](http://bilinskiandthesourwolf.tumblr.com)  
> Derek hasn't told Stiles he's back in town but that doesn't stop Stiles from finding out and coming to him. 3B fic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this edit](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/69723147118/i-missed-you-derek)

He knows it’s Stiles on the other side of the door, knows it as easily as he knows the frantic beating of his own heart. (At what point had he learned enough about Stiles to know how his heart sounded? Derek doesn’t understand when he’d learned so many of the teenagers quirks, his scent, his _heart beat._ )

 

Derek feels like a coward when he thinks about how he hadn’t told Stiles that he’s back in town and he’s not sure why. And even though he doesn’t know the source or cause of this feeling, Derek tells himself to man up and just face Stiles. Maybe facing him will help shake loose this odd feeling which has settled and taken root in his heart. The one that’s making him feel jittery and irritated in equal parts.

 

Derek throws the door open, gaze immediately meeting Stiles’. The teenager looks haggard, like he’s falling apart at the seams. Derek takes in the messier than usual hair, the rumpled clothes and muddy sneakers and feels guilty. He shouldn’t have left, no so abruptly. He should have told Stiles himself that he was leaving and insist that the teenager keep in touch. But no, Derek had just run, leaving Stiles and the others to fend for themselves. He’d told himself that even though they were teenagers, they were more than capable of looking after themselves.

 

 _‘Clearly not.’_ He thinks as he gestures for Stiles to come in. Stiles lowers his head in quiet thanks and takes two steps in, closes the door behind him and hovers uncertainly in place. The look in his eyes pulls something loose in Derek, makes him feel like a badly put together puzzle made of broken glass. The feeling grows and grows as Stiles steps forward, one, two, three, until they’re toe to toe.

 

Derek can’t help but hold his breath at the broken look with which Stiles stares at him before whispering, “I missed you.” It’s the first words they’ve said to each other since before Derek left. And  Derek feels like someone’s shoved a hand into his chest, grabbed his fragile heart and squeezed it until it was nothing but broken shards and dust.

 

The painful ache spreads all the way down to his fingertips and bones, being soothed only when he’s holding Stiles against him and tilting his face just enough so that the oncoming kiss will be comfortable and sweet rather than awkward. And when Stiles’ mouth touches his own, Derek shivers and feels cleansed.

 

The pain disappears faster than it had appeared; replaced with a heat so warm he wonders if he’s going to burst into flames. Stiles feels warmer when he presses closer so that they’re chest to chest, hearts beating erratically in a perfectly off beat that soothes the last of Derek’s pain.

 

Stiles is the first to pull away, looking a lot calmer than previously. And when Derek whispers, “Missed you too.” back, his quiet smile lights up the dark loft.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05\. For [alphahel](http://alphahel.tumblr.com)  
> Lazy Sterek morning fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by these tags by Hel](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/70827596109/i-see-sterek-i-see-derek-like-stiles-waking-up)

The first thing Stiles sees after he cracks his eyes open and squints (ugh, it’s too bright outside if the glowing curtains are anything to go by), is Derek’s neck.

 

The warm morning sunlight is bathing their bedroom in a cozy orange color that reminds Stiles of oranges and summer. The muted light is falling over Derek’s tanned, bare skin, coloring it a rich color that snaps Stiles into awareness in a heartbeat. Hunger roils through him, making his hand creep out of its hiding place under the shared pillow to touch the throbbing veins on Derek’s neck.

 

Stiles presses gentle fingertips against the veins, feels the proof of Derek’s life with his own hands and thinks of how lucky he is. A few years ago he never would have thought they’d be here - together, in love, safe - but here they were. Stiles smiles and presses closer to the werewolf, shifting so that he’s hovering half on top of Derek so that he can press kisses to his pecs, nipples, clavicle on his slow journey up to parted lips.

 

He feels the hitch in Derek’s breath when he’s busy nibbling on Derek’s jaw line, grinning into the scruff when there’s warm hands pressing sleepy warm into his hips.

 

“Morning.” He murmurs into Derek’s cheek, shivering at the sleepy answer brushing past his cheek and ear. The werewolf grunts and rubs their cheeks together, the scrap of stubble making them both shiver. Stiles leans back a few inches, wanting to see Derek come awake.

 

Derek’s eyes are hooded with sleep and lust and so, so warm. Stiles feels inexplicably shy in the face of them, ducking down to catch Derek’s lips in a quick kiss before asking, “Breakfast?”

 

Derek’s hands tighten around him, forcing him to lie down all the way on top of the werewolf before anchoring him in place. “Sleep.”

 

The werewolf’s sleepy command makes Stiles grin and wriggle slightly to get comfortable before he gets his ass swatted playfully. “Alright alright.” He grumbles, nosing Derek’s jaw before sighing. “Sleeping now.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06\. For [hewhorunswithwolves](http://hewhorunswithwolves.tumblr.com)  
> Stiles bites Derek's hand and the wound heals slowly, slow enough for Derek to worry. And then he realizes what it means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/67885472581/heathyr-i-need-a-fic-where-a-natural-bite-or)

It’s been three days since Stiles had actually bitten him and the bruise has yet to fade away. It’s healing sure but not the speed with which his wounds usually do. And that is worrisome. _Extremely_ worrisome. There’s very few things which would stump Derek’s healing and last he checked, a human’s bite _shouldn’t_ be taking so long to heal!

 

Derek stares at the ring of teeth marks around his hand, an imperfect ring between his thumb and wrist, feeling the urge to growl when he remembers how much it had hurt when Stiles had sunk his teeth into flesh and bone. He gets being angry but honestly? He’d never thought Stiles would resort to biting people, much less a fucking werewolf!

 

But Stiles had been unrepentant, fighting Isaac’s grip before honest to God stomping away to his Jeep while yelling profanity at Derek. Scott had sighed before patting Derek’s arm, “I’ll talk to him. Explain why it’s best for him to stick home this time around.”

 

Whatever Scott had said to Stiles had worked. Thank God. The human had stayed at home while the werewolves had tracked down the golem and gotten rid of it. Not without everyone cursing the way the golem had exploded and sprayed them all with wet mud.

 

Of course a side effect of this was Stiles being really pissed off at them all, including Scott. It was expected. Derek wasn’t surprised that Stiles would feel hurt and angry for being side lined. For his part, Scott had brushed Stiles’ anger away, saying Stiles would soon enough understand their side and come around. Everyone else followed the alpha’s lead, not pushing Stiles in the meanwhile. Derek hoped Scott was right because he wanted to get even for being fucking bitten. And he could only do that when Stiles was talking to him again without calling him things like ‘douche wolf’ and other lovely variations.

 

But more importantly, why the hell wasn’t the bite mark healing? Derek flexed his thumb back and forth, frowning at the twinge of pain the movement caused. The only times a werewolf’s healing slowed down was being hurt by an Alpha or.

 

Oh.

 

Oh hell no.

 

He stared at his own hand like it was a carrier of the Bubonic Plague because there was no _way_ Stiles Stilinski was his _mate_.

 

Derek hurriedly called Deaton, nearly tripping over his own shoes in his haste. He hoped desperately that had been nothing but a wives tale his mother used to tell her kids but Deaton’s “Yes actually. If a werewolf’s mate hurts the werewolf through natural means, like teeth and nails, then it does take longer for them to heal. Why do you ask?”

 

Derek had mumbled something about checking some lead out for Scott before hanging up and pressing his face into the nearest table with a groan. What the hell? _What the hell_? Why? _Why Stiles_? And how the hell was he going to tell him? _Ought_ he tell Stiles? Derek couldn’t see this ending well.

 

Oh shit. Didn’t Stiles already _know_ about the biting thing as well? Derek had been the one to explain that to the human ages ago!

 

He was thinking about avoiding Stiles all together for however long it took for the bite to heal when someone knocked on his front door. Derek froze, wondering who it could be but just _knew_ that Stiles was standing behind the door because his life was like that - one giant shitty punch line after another.

 

“Derek!” Stiles yelled, making Derek scramble to find some way to hide the bite mark under his thumb. His life. Seriously! “Open the door dude! We gotta talk!”

 

Derek was ready to wrap a damned bandage around his wrist when he noticed the shopping bag sitting by the sofa. Hadn’t he gotten a sweater that came all the way up to his knuckles? He dove at the black bag, tearing through the clothes as he yelled, “Hold up!” It took less than a few seconds to pull his t-shirt off and the sweater on, hurriedly tugging the soft grey material over his hands before throwing the door open.

 

Stiles looked less than pleased at having been made to wait, ire turning into momentary confusion as he took in the sweater. “You feeling cold?” He asked with furrowed brows.

 

Scowling hard at the teenager, Derek answered, “Not that it’s any of your business but, a little bit yes.”

 

Stiles pushed himself up to his tip toes, deliberately, to stare over Derek’s shoulder out the loft windows at the warm day outside before drawling, “Right. Sure. Whatever. Listen, we need to talk about that golem.”

 

Sighing, Derek stepped back to let Stiles, sweeping his arm behind him in a ‘come in’ gesture. While doing so, the sweater slipped up his arm just enough to give Stiles a glimpse of the bruise and make him ask, “Are you hurt?”

 

The werewolf cursed internally before tugging the sleeve back down. “It’s nothing.” But Stiles was nothing if not persistent. He ignored Derek’s words, trying to grab his wrist and see for himself and despite the obvious strength advantage the werewolf had, he managed to drag the sleeve up just enough to get a look at Derek’s hand.

 

“Hey thats where I bit you! But...” Derek shook Stiles off, perhaps a little too violently than necessary causing the human to stagger back with a pale face. “That’s... Isn’t that...” Stiles was finally speechless and Derek didn’t like it. “ _We’re mates?!_ ”Stiles squeaked, eyes the size of dinner plates as he stared at Derek.

 

He looked ready to pass out on his feet when Derek nodded but quickly gained his senses as he shook his head firmly, pointed at the werewolf and said, “No. Nope. Nope nope nope.” and walked out repeating the word over and over again.

  
(It takes him a few days to process the information and both he and Derek avoid each other for even more weeks until Scott has had enough and forces them to talk their problems out. End result of the forced meeting being they tentatively agree to date which leads to a lot of nice dates and shy kisses and everyone joining in the betting pool to guess when Derek and Stiles will finally touch dicks. Scott wins because he knows Derek’s a secret romantic and would totally make Valentines a big deal. Plus he did overhear him making plans so there’s that.)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 07\. For [ohhalesyeah](http://ohhalesyeah.tumblr.com)  
> Baby fic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/68666905376/lycanthropique-dereks-daughter-waking-him-up)

Stiles conspiratorially presses his finger against his mouth and whispers, “Shhhh. We gotta be real quiet if we’re gonna wake Daddy up.” to the baby in his arms. Their beautiful baby girl, Sophia, blinks serenely at him while suckling on her pacifier. The quiet suck-suck sound makes Stiles smile at her. She doesn’t make any noise beyond the suckling, even as Stiles exaggeratedly sneaks up on Derek fast asleep in their bed, face pressed into a soft pillow.

 

She does however, make a started ‘Yuwah!’ noise behind her pacifier when Stiles puts her down on the bed, just a few feet away from her beloved Daddy.

 

Sophia sits on her rump a handful of confused seconds, peering up at her other daddy before finally noticing Derek. Her delighted noise as she spits the pacifier out, falls down on all fours and hurriedly scoots over to Derek is a thing of joy. Stiles sits on the edge of the bed, feeling like his heart is too big for his body, grinning when he catches sight of Derek’s lips twitching. So his husband is awake. And playing with Sophia.

 

The baby crawls up to Derek’s face, chubby hands pressing into Derek’s cheeks as she tries to stand up on her own. It’s a lost cause however. She wobbles before falling back on her diapered butt, blinking in surprise at her own failure before catching sight of something on Derek’s face which makes her let out a stream of baby talk that makes Derek smile.

 

Stiles is content to sit and watch Derek play possum, let Sophia think he’s still asleep as she presses her mouth against Derek’s cheek and nuzzles him before slapping his nose with a matter of fact “Kakaka!”. Derek’s lips twitch repeatedly, like he’s fighting a losing battle against the good humor rising in him.

 

Her cheeks go from pink to red as she rubs her cheek against Derek’s scuff, squealing happily when Derek suddenly turns to grab her and lift her up, growling playfully. “Someone’s up early.” He tells the baby, grinning at the toothless grin Sophia is giving her Daddy back. Sophia squeals and reaches for Derek, pleased when her Daddy holds her against his broad chest.

 

“Someone needed a diaper change at 5am.” Stiles answers grimly, crawling back into his place next to Derek, reaching up to pat Sophia’s bare back now that she’s resting against the werewolf’s chest.

 

She’s running her hands through Derek’s chest with an expression of utmost concentration, still babbling away. Derek winces every so often but lets her play, hand under her butt. “What time is it now?” He asks, trying to glance at the alarm clock.

 

But Stiles snorts, using his free hand to turn Derek’s face back towards him. “You don’t wanna know. I thought she might relax a bit with us and get some more sleep.”

 

Derek hums, throwing his free arm around Stiles to pull him closer. “Maybe if you sang something to her?”

 

Shooting the werewolf a dirty look, because Derek _knows_ how much he hates singing (but oh the irony, Sophia _loves it_ when he sings), Stiles begins to sing Hakuna Makata off key. Sophia immediately tries to crawl over into Stiles’ arms, smiling broadly when Stiles strokes her cheeks and continues to sing.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08\. For [Julia](http://sterekism.tumblr.com)  
> Just because Stiles talks a lot doesn't mean he can't be quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by this lovely post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/67856713939/youshinebrighter21-sleepy-mornings-where-stiles)

Most people think that Stiles’ tendency to ramble and generally be a chatterbox is something he never turns off. They think that as long as he’s awake, he’s going to be prone to babbling at the drop of a hat. Derek knows this isn’t true at all. Knows this better than anyone actually, with the possible exception of Stiles’ family.

 

Sure Stiles talks more than most people but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have his quiet moments. In fact, if Derek thinks about it, they have a lot more quiet moments than talkative ones. Stiles grows quiet after sex, content to bask next to Derek like a giant cat before linking their hands together. He’s quiet while researching, only making a few noises as he concentrates - irritated groans when he hits a dead end, happy exclamations when he finds something good and grunts to answer any question.

 

He’s quietest right after waking up. He’ll refuse to do anything but grunt for at least half an hour after waking up. Derek grins every time Stiles stumbles into the kitchen, glaring at the side table he often bumps into in the morning but never actually curses it because apparently it takes too much energy to curse a piece of furniture right after waking up. The human will just walk up to Derek, curl into his back with a kittenish noise before holding his hand out for coffee.

 

Sometimes Derek will try and coax a conversation out of Stiles but most days, they’re content to stand together or sit side by side, stealing food out of each other’s plates, just enjoying the warm silence between them. There will only be the clink of forks and spoons against plates and mugs, the gentle slurping of coffee and or juice. Sometimes they’ll turn the TV on and check the news. Other times they’ll try to read the newspaper together without jostling for elbow space. Mostly they just sit and eat, elbows and knees knocking against each other with every few moves.

 

Stiles is especially quiet on rainy mornings, awake well before Derek and greeting the werewolf with a stale tasting kiss and sad little smile. He’ll just rest his cheek on Derek’s chest, staring at the patterns the rain makes against the window. Derek knows better than to push Stiles on rainy days, especially the ones in September, not wanting to remind Stiles of the sudden way he’d lost his mom.

 

The very best quiet Stiles is the one who curls sleepily up against him, one arm around Derek’s waist and the other under the werewolf’s face. There’s no sight which compares to the one he wakes up to every morning now - Stiles’ face peaceful in repose, snoring lightly until Derek nudges him onto his back. The human will fall back and drag Derek with him, sliding cold feet against Derek’s warm ones with a suddenness that always makes the werewolf jump and grumble, “I swear you do that on purpose.” Stiles smacks his lips and sleeps on.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 09\. For [santahecklin](http://santahecklin.tumblr.com)  
> Derek getting distracted mid sentence by a hickey on Stiles’ neck and Scott trying to smother him with a cushion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/65038123631/stilinskisparkles-stiles-and-derek-bashing)   
>  **Mature Rating**

It’s not he means to get distracted but... that hickey on Stiles’ neck is _really_ distracting. Yes, he’s the one who put the damn thing there but that doesn’t make it any less distracting! It’s big and purple and he’d put it there without thinking about how it’s too high to be covered with anything but a scarf (which Stiles _refuses_ to wear, declaring it be Jackson levels of douchness, which! Is not his thing!).

 

Derek forgets what he’d been saying just _seconds_ ago, brain too busy recalling how the hickey had come to be. They’d been on the sofa, in nothing but their underwear, grinding lazily against each other while making out. Heavily. Stiles had mumbled something about being too old to neck like teenagers and Derek had nipped his lips in reprimand. In his books, you could never be too old for a good necking and grinding session on the sofa.

 

Stiles had laughed into his mouth, nails scratching down Derek’s back before grabbing his ass and making him move under him. Their cocks rubbed together in a perfect tease, making the wet spots on their briefs spread and grow. Derek wanted to reach down and pull the offending material off but Stiles had moaned, “Let ‘em stay on. Feels better. Or worse actually but better.”

 

So the underwear stayed on.

 

He feels more than a little hot under the collar remembering all the hot little noises Stiles had made under him, hands sweeping restlessly over Derek’s body. The memory of Stiles’ broad hands squeezing his ass, tracing the sharp edges of his shoulder blades, pressing against his tattoo to pull him down make Derek’s cock twitch with interest. Derek stares at Stiles’ hands, remembering the way those short nails had dug into his shoulder blades when the human had whispered he was close to coming. Derek remembers pulling Stiles’ leg up around his waist, pushing both their briefs down just enough to make their cocks drag against each other. Stiles had broken first, throwing his head back with a gasp bef-

 

There’s a pillow in his face, startling Derek out of his day dream. He splutters while Scott groans, “Dude! _Really_?!”

 

Derek tries not to blush, focusing instead on giving Scott a glare.

 

Which Stiles goes and ruins by laughing along with the others, more sheepish than teasing, and rubbing his hand over his damned hickey. Which prompts Scott to give his best friend a few whacks in the face as well, while yelling at him to keep it in his pants in public.

 

Derek snatches the pillow out of Scott’s hands and gives him a thorough whack back before dragging Stiles into his lap, throwing the alpha a look daring him to do something.

 

Scott rolls his eyes and mutters about the honeymoon phase loud enough for Stiles to catch and laugh at.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10\. For [siny](http://sinyhale.tumblr.com)  
> Stiles finds himself thinking differently about Derek when he helps Scott with his tattoo

When Stiles thinks about it, he can’t really pinpoint the exact moment when he began to crush on Derek. However. He _does_ remember the _precise_ moment when his view of Derek had been rattled.

 

Stiles recalls standing between Scott and Derek in the dusty remains of the Hale house, arms crossed as the alpha peers at Scott’s arm and says, “Yeah I see it. Two bands right?”

 

The thing of it, Stiles expects Derek to reprimand Scott for the tattoo - give him the old speech about Scott being too young, it’s too dangerous yada-yada-yada. Maybe throw in a few angry growls, a handful of scowls and a hefty dose of judgmental eyebrows. He’s ready and waiting for Derek to ask Scott what he’d been thinking, which is why he starts _badly_ when Derek asks what the tattoo is supposed to mean.

 

Stiles can’t help but stare at Derek instead of pay full attention to Scott. Sure he hears what Scott’s saying but most of his brain is reeling Derek’s quiet tone and rapt attention with which he’s listening to Scott. It’s honestly a side of the werewolf he’s never seen before and it’s... it’s like someone throwing a switch to bathe a room in blinding light.

 

 And then he even goes and asks why it’s important to Scott and Stiles is ready to ask, “Who _are_ you?” in severe incredulity.

 

Derek Hale’s the _last_ person he expects to sit down with Scott and _talk_ about things, considering their rocky relationship. It makes Stiles wonder if the skin walkers from Supernatural are an actual thing and one of them is poorly impersonating Derek.

 

To check if Derek is still Derek, Stiles pipes up when Scott asks what the word tattoo means. “To mark something.” He even throws in a little wink because he knows it’s bound to get a reaction out of Derek but the werewolf shoots him a vague, puzzled look before turning back towards Scott.

 

Which makes Stiles want to yell, “Doppelganger alert!”

 

He kind of forgets when Scott corrects him and Derek looks at him like... like... Stiles doesn’t know _how_ to put words to that look. It’s soft, respectful. A little tired around the edges but warm. If he has to make a guess then. Stiles would say it’s the kind of look an older brother would give his younger siblings.

 

The way in which Derek listens to Scott talk about Allison, and doesn’t say a word against it, pulls at Stiles’ heart strings. Maybe its wistful thinking, maybe he’s reading too much into it, who knows, but Stiles thinks he catches an understanding look flit past Derek’s eyes when Scott talks about how hard it’s been and how much it still hurts. Stiles really wants to just grab them both in a hug and never let go if he’s honest.

 

“It still feels like...” Scott trails off, eyes distant and hooded.

 

“An open wound.” Stiles finishes, gaze moving over Scott’s body before skipping over to Derek. There’s that flash of understanding again and a part of Stiles thinks, ‘ _Ah shit. I can’t turn this off now can I?_ ’

 

As it turns out? He can’t. Not that he tries. He likes realizing there’s a softer side to Derek, likes seeing it, hearing it, interacting with it. Stiles enjoys how their banter has softened around the edges but is still cutting at the heart of it. He revels in the thought of _this_ being the real Derek rather than one they’d met months ago.

 

The feeling in his chest grows, grows, grows - the seed growing into a sapling which quickly turns into a tree so big Stiles can’t see the top of it while standing at the base. And it is altogether too late to take any corrective measures by the time Stiles realizes what path his heart has started going down.

 

All he can do is try not to let Derek find out so he ruthlessly squashes his feelings down, twice as hard once the Darach thing comes to light. He doesn’t think Derek would appreciate wanting to be in another relationship after _that_ debacle. Stiles presses his lips together hard when he finds out about Derek and Cora leaving, telling himself not to be selfish and to let Derek go. _‘Not like I had him that I’m letting him go._ ’ Stiles thinks bitterly to himself, moving through the empty loft.

 

He expects his feelings for Derek to fade during their time apart, hoping so _hard_ that that’s what will happen.

 

It doesn’t.

 

Not really.

 

 Stiles _thinks_ his feelings for Derek have cooled down to a more friendly level, a manageable extend, but when Derek comes back... Stiles is ready to swear his heart swells four times its size because of how much he’s feeling. He blames that same feeling for the shortness of breath, overly long hug (which involves lifting Derek off his feet for a few seconds) and choked out, “We missed you, you ass!”

 

And when Derek hugs him back with a quiet laugh? Hands lingering on his arms? Saying, “Missed you too Stiles.”? Stiles’ grin is so broad he thinks he’s broken his cheeks. So he slaps Derek’s arms a few times before stepping back to let Scott get his hug in, laughing like an idiot when Scott gives Derek a bear hug as well.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11\. For [qhuinn](http://qhuinn.tumblr.com)  
> Morning sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from the tags on this post](http://alphahel.tumblr.com/post/70953279974)   
>  **Explicit**

The groan Stiles lets out when Derek slides two fingers down between his ass, fingering the younger man’s slick hole, makes Derek grin.

 

“We _just_ did it!” Stiles’ complaint is muffled thanks to the pillow he’s got his face buried in. Derek continues to lie on his side, legs straddling Stiles’ thigh so that his half hard dick is snug under Stiles’ ass, chest pressing into Stiles’ side as his boyfriend continues, “I know werewolves have this crazy refractory period and all but think of me and my poor human dick!”

 

Derek knows he’s being an ass when he slips both fingers in all the way, just enjoying the way his come feels inside Stiles, and murmurs, “I _am_ thinking about your poor human dick.”

 

The way Stiles groans and squirms on the bed makes Derek wonder if Stiles’ dick is already feeling up for round two of morning sex. His own dick is. Derek leans down to press warm, open mouthed kisses between Stiles’ shoulder blades, sucking a large mark right in the middle because he can.

 

He continues sucking more marks on Stiles’ toned back while he slowly fingers Stiles to full hardness. Stiles’ complaints have turned into quiet moans and even more squirming. His hips seem to have a hard time deciding between grinding down into the sheets and thrusting back into Derek’s fingers. Stiles winds up finding a gentle rhythm between the two, turning his head to face Derek as he fucks himself back and grinds his hard cock down.

 

The werewolf is content to slide his hand between Stiles’ chest and the bed, pulling Stiles closer to him as Derek’s fingers do not hasten their pace. He stares at Stiles, watches the butterfly-esque flutter of his lashes, the color spreading over his cheeks, the _love_ in Stiles’ eyes and feels overwhelmed.

 

Stiles lets out a choked laugh, fingers curling around the werewolf’s arm as his eyes finally close. “God I love cuddle fucks. Right there, right there, oooo yessss!” The human’s quiet hiss is a thing of rare beauty. It makes Derek hump against the human’s leg, smearing pre-come against his lightly haired thigh and ass, and Stiles moan wantonly.

 

“You feel so good. So loose.” Derek groans into Stiles’ shoulder. “Still so wet. Fuck. You like that don’t you? Having my come in your ass? You like how it feels dripping out of you, down your legs. Like it even more when I lick you clean.” He goes on and on, fingers still moving at their languid pace while Stiles’ body grows tighter and tighter until finally he lets out a broken sigh and comes.

 

Feeling Stiles’ muscles clench down around his fingers, and the way his hands are gripping Derek’s arm, like he’s the only thing keeping Stiles’ tethered to Earth, pushes Derek to his orgasm as well. He pulls away to straddle the human’s ass, grabbing his dick and working his hand at a stripping rhythm that has him coming within half a dozen strokes. Derek directs the come at Stiles’ ass, moaning when the thick liquid drips down and over the clenching ass. A few drops even drip _into_ Stiles.

 

Derek’s ready to drop back down to his previous position when he sees Stiles’ hand move. He watches, mouth falling open in dumb lust when those beautifully long fingers fumble around before finding his hand and linking their fingers together. “We’ve got the fucking, now cuddlin’.” Stiles slurs as he weakly pulls on Derek’s hand. “Next, cuddle fucks.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12\. For [Fin](http://finduilasclln.tumblr.com)  
> It’s the first time he’s going to see Derek after he’s returned and honestly? Stiles is a little nervous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by this image](http://captain-snark.tumblr.com/post/70963916134)

It’s the first time he’s going to see Derek after he’s returned and honestly? Stiles is a little nervous. He doesn’t know why but he is. To the point he feels like jumping out of his skin.

 

As he stands outside the loft, waiting for Derek to open the door, Stiles wonders if Derek’s changed in the few months he’s been away. The werewolf has been away helping Cora get settled with some new pack near Chicago. She’d gotten admission in a university there and Derek thought it best to help her out as much as he could. He’d finally returned last week and hasn’t dropped by to say hi to him so, here Stiles is.

 

If the mountain won’t go to Mohammed then Mohammed must go to the mountain. Stiles snickers to himself at the comparison because Derek and a mountain have a lot in common - tall, hard as rocks (muscles and head), impossible to climb (not that he’s been trying to climb Derek. But he does want too, truth be told).

 

Stiles is still snickering to himself, bent over when the door opens. His spine immediately snaps straight, heart beat rising when the first thing he sees is Derek’s bare feet. It’s such a homey sight it makes his heart clench a tiny bit. Stiles lets his gaze travel up, taking in Derek’s dark sweats, white undershirt and _holy shit on a stick_. Houston, we have a major problem.

 

Derek’s got chest hair.

 

Someone needed to call 911 right _now_ before Stiles passed out because Derek’s amazing pecs were covered with thick chest hair he wanted to bury his face in and moan with delight. Not that he hasn’t had that particular urge before because he has.

 

Derek’s got amazing pecs anyways. They’re big enough that his fingers always itch to grab them and squeeze. There’s also the urge to just dive in between them and go to sleep like a baby because Derek’s pecs have _got_ to be super comfortable. And of course there’s the fantasy to try motor boating. Oh God motor boating...

 

“Stiles.” Derek greets him easily. Just in time too because Stiles can feel a bit of drool coming dangerously close to spilling out of his open mouth.

 

He snaps his mouth shut with an audible clap, grinning maniacally at the werewolf as he greets, “Derek! Welcome back!”

 

“Good to be back.” Derek half smiles, leaning casual as you please against the doorway before crossing his arms over his glorious, _glorious_ chest. Oh son of a leprechaun! Is that a nipple? _Is that Derek’s nipple peeking through the undershirt?_

 

Stiles feels like he’s hyperventilating the longer he stares at the tiny nub poking through the soft white cotton. “That’s great!” He speaks from a great distance, thanking God that his mouth can work even without a direct connection to his brain. It’s dangerous to let his mouth run on auto pilot but his brain has burnt to a damned crisp and it cannot be helped. “We missed you! It’s good having you back. Yeah.”

 

Is he still smiling? Stiles hopes he is because smiling is the polite thing to do during conversation right? And speaking of polite things, the way Derek is tugging distractedly on the collar of his sleeveless shirt is _not_ polite. It’s downright fucking _rude_. Stiles’ dick _does not_ appreciate this. “Stiles? Stiles?” He hears Derek calling him, blinking up in surprise, loathe to look away from Derek’s hand tugging on the white cotton. “Are you alright? You look a little flushed.”

 

Derek actually looks concerned when he takes a step forward, sweats pulling tight around his waist and _holy crap abort all missions’ looks like Hale is going commando_. Stiles feels _more_ heat running through him ( _where_ is this hot feeling _coming_ from?! Stiles feels like he’s got a damned furnace burning in the pit of his stomach!) when Derek reaches out to touch his arm and squeaks, “Must be the heat!”

 

The werewolf looks so _confused_ when he says, “It’s November.”

 

Crap. “The car. Heater. Had it on really high. Yeah. So hey! You’re good and possibly busy so I’m gonna head back. I was just  curious how you were and all because you came back and didn’t come see me or anything. Not that I’m blaming you! Because I bet you were busy getting settled again. You move around too much have you ever noticed that?”

 

Stiles notes with relief that his sudden verbal diarrhea has its intended effect to confuse Derek just long enough to give Stiles the chance at a quick exit. Because he’s got a date with his hands, his bed and the new bottle of lube he’d bought just yesterday. Several dates as a matter of fact. Several _long_ dates if he has his way. “Anyways!” Stiles chirps, walking backwards away from Derek, “I’ll see you soon okay? Movie nights are Wednesday now, at Lydia’s!”

 

And he turns tail and _runs_ away because there’s only so long he can stop his brain from thinking about straddling Derek’s hairy chest, coming all over it and rubbing the come into the soft looking hairs. _‘Fuck fuck fuck!’_ Stiles isn’t even sure if he’s going to make it to his Jeep at this rate! Damn Derek Hale and his hairy chest!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13\. For [sarcastic-alpha](http://sarcastic-alpha.tumblr.com)  
> Derek's scrunchy faced laughter is going to be the death of Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no 3a /hand wave

Derek Hale has smile lines. And not just any smile lines ladies and gentlemen! But the really adorable kind around his eyes while makes Stiles stutter to a stop because smile lines!

 

And to top the whole thing off! Derek Hale _does_ know how to laugh! It’s not the ‘throw your head back and laugh from the pit of your stomach’ kind of laugh which he himself has. Or like Allison’s warm laugh which is always more teeth than laughs. Or like Scott’s bordering on giggles but not quiet chuckles.

 

No, no, Derek Hale’s laughter is quiet. He doesn’t make much noise when he’s laughing. He just shakes so hard it’s like he’s going to break any second. Derek will grin and squeeze his eyes shut, like he’s trying to keep his laughter inside him rather than share it with the world and that... _that_ is simply unacceptable.

 

Stiles can’t _deal_ with the way Derek squeezes his eyes when laughing or the multitude of smile lines that are formed as a result. Stiles doesn’t know what to _do_ when Derek’s covering his face with one hand, frame shaking with mirth but nothing more than muffled huffs coming out of his stupidly attractive nose.

 

He’s trying to explain this to Scott, along with all the dangerous effects Derek’s silent amusement tends to have on his nervous system (read: his nervous system is fucking _shot,_ okay?) Stiles _tries_ to explain how Derek having a sense of humor (dry as the desert sure but a sense of humor was a sense of humor!) was bad enough for his heart but finding out Derek’s got _smile lines_? Nope. Stiles _cannot_ deal with this shit.

 

“I’m not seeing the problem here.” Scott pipes up for what feels like the billionth time, prompting Stiles to pause his pacing and give his best friend a glare. “You think he’s cute when he smiles so what.”

 

The urge to strangle Scott’s nonchalance out of him is high, _so_ high and Stiles manages to hold himself back. Instead he picks up the nearest book and throws it straight at Scott’s stomach. Scott catches it and puts it away on the nearest flat surface. Ass. “It’s more than that! It’s... It’s... It’s like... finding out you like a thing but then you find an Easter Egg and the Easter Egg kills you!”

 

Scott throws him a dry look, “That made _no_ sense.”

 

“Screw you, it made _all_ the sense.” Stiles whines peevishly, falling down on Scott’s bed. Face down. Maybe if he stays face down long enough, he’ll stop breathing and pass on. It’ll be an easier death than facing Derek’s scrunchy faced grins which make him feel like he’s having a fucking heart attack.

 

But then Scott has to go and start humming ‘Can you feel the love tonight’ so Stiles _has_ to get up, grab another book and throw it at the werewolf declaring him to be the worst best friend ever. “Starting tomorrow, Boyd’s my best friend. You’re fired.”

 

Scott giggle-laughs before jumping on him on the bed, cooing, “I think it’s _adorable_ you think Derek’s cute. You should totally tell him and finish this weird UST thing you both got going on. I’ll even share the pool with you!”

 

“Pool? What? Oh don’t _tell_ me you guys are betting on my love life.”

 

The werewolf waggles a finger at Stiles. “ _Technically_ we’re betting on you _having_ a love life, totally different. Cause you don’t have a love life right now, you have more of a ... pining life.”

 

“Now _that_ didn’t make _any_ sense.” Stiles gripes. “It was Erica’s idea wasn’t it? I swear I’m gonna kill her.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14\. For [captain-snark](http://captain-snark.tumblr.com)  
> It’s been a long time since Derek’s been breathless in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired from a post I can't find. If this sounds familiar to you and you've got a link to the post in question, can you link me to it please? ; _;

It’s been a long time since Derek’s been breathless in a good way. In recent history he’s only ever gotten short of breath when he’s had to run for his life or has had the crap beaten out of him. And okay there was that one time when Stiles had pushed him down on the sofa and teased him with his mouth, hands, tongue for an hour before finally letting him come - Derek had been  _really_ short of breath that time too.

 

Right now he’s flopped down on the bed next to Stiles’ sweaty warm body, unable to hear anything over the pounding of his own heart and his short gasps for air. God he feels like a fucking mess - there’s sweat, lube, spit, come drying on him and it feels great. Derek kind of wants to roll around in bed and just let the musky sex scent of him and Stiles soak into the sheets, into the mattress so that it doesn’t matter if he changes the sheets, the smell of them will stay. Could he convince Stiles to roll around a bit as well?

 

Which reminds him. Derek turns his head to glance at Stiles, wondering how he’s doing. And to check if he's not just imagining the content feeling he's been feeling coming from Stiles. They’ve tried penetrative sex a few times before but this is the first time they’ve managed to go all the way through with it. The first time had been too painful for Stiles so they’d stopped. The second time Derek had tried and Isaac had burst in on them. Third times the charm apparently.

 

Stiles looks amazing - his mouth is open, swollen and pink as he tries to regulate his breathing. One arm is over his eyes, poorly hiding his closed eyes. Derek wants to try and nose his way under the bony wrist to kiss the lush eyelashes and closed eyes, feeling sappy and grateful as hell that he’s got Stiles in his life. But he forgoes the urge, giving Stiles the time he needs to come back to him.

 

Derek places one hand on Stiles’ chest, counting the rise and fall until Stiles breathes out, “So that’s sex.” The fact that he can hear Stiles’ babble of how he means penetrative sex and not just sex ("Cause what we’ve been doing before is totally sex but this is like a total punching of my V card while before it was like a probation or something or like a mini punch I guess.") even though he doesn’t say a word after, kind of proves to Derek he’s a lot in love with this young man.

 

“Yeah.” Derek replies softly, fingers lazily tracing patterns on Stiles’ skin.

 

The way Stiles’ heartbeat remains elevated concerns him, as does the way Stiles is not looking at him. Did he… he didn’t hurt Stiles did he? Or do something wrong? Derek’s about to ask if everything alright when Stiles turns his head to face him, peeking out from under his arm with a cheeky grin, “Can we do it again?”

 

Derek snorts in amusement, grabbing Stiles’ wrist and using it to drag him forward into a quick kiss before muttering, “And again if you want.”

 

“Awesome!” Stiles chirps, rolling them over so that he’s on top. “I totally want to ride you this time.”

 

And he does. _Excellently._ Leaving Derek breathless all over again.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15\. For [tsuminubiaru](http://tsuminubiaru.tumblr.com)  
> AU where nerd!Stiles has a mega crush on basketball!jock!Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/65038123631/stilinskisparkles-stiles-and-derek-bashing)

"And then Derek-!!!" Stiles flails in his seat, **hard** , when Scott slaps a hand across his face with a hard frown. Rude much?

 

"Dude!" His best friend chides him, face dancing between frowning and laughing. It looks weird and funny as hell, making Stiles shake with laughter behind Scott's hand.  "That's like, the _14th_ time you've said his name! I know you've got a mega-crush on Derek Hale but come on! This is getting weird."

 

Yanking Scott's hand off his face, Stiles did _not_ blush as he retorted, "It was NOT 14 times!" It couldn't have been 14 times. It just couldn't. Stiles would have noticed if he'd mentioned the basketball star 14 times in his conversation with Scott. 

 

His best friend levels him with a deadpan glare. "14 times." Scott repeats grimly, mock frowning harder as he points his finger at Stiles. "Keep this up and I'm gonna start teasing you more than you did me about Allison." 

 

With a tiny squwack, Stiles throws a couple of potato chips at his traitorous best friend. "My thing for Derek is NOTHING like your crush on Allison."

 

And it wasn't thank you very much! He hadn't fallen head over heels for Derek after passing him a pen! No, no, his love was deeper. More grand. Started when Derek had clipped him on the head with a stray basketball. Stiles remembers falling down on his back, groan-asking what just happened only to blink up and find himself staring up at an angel. A dark haired angel with the prettiest eyes and ears they kind of needed to grow into.  

 

 _Clearly_ his love for Derek is different from Scott's love for Allison. 

 

Scott scoops the same chips up and throws them back at Stiles. "You're right. It's worse! You're always making moon eyes at him when he's on the court, dooddling 'Stiles Hale' along with your notes and ack!"

 

Stiles tackles Scott down, laughing when he gets tickled for his attack and immediately yells, "Unfair tactics!" 

 

They keep tickling each other, laughing and shouting even after they tumble down to the floor and Melissa yells, "No horsing around! If either of you gets hurt I am  _not_ driving you to the hospital."


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16\. For [angrygoomba](http://angrygoomba.tumblr.com)  
> Sometimes Derek imagines them to be a family instead of just Stiles and Nate and baby sitter!Derek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired from this post I can't find ; n;

Stiles’ is crouched down on the floor in front of his son, elbows rubbing so hard into the rug Derek won't be surprised to hear Stiles bitching about about elbow holes soon, cheerfully asking, “Who am I? C’mon Nate! Who am I?” Derek is sitting next to Stiles, one hand on Nate's back to keep him upright.

 

Nate, who is the splitting image of Stiles (just with his mom’s jet black curls instead of his father’s tousled brown hair), gurgles back at his dad before babbling, “Dada!” From his spot next to Stiles, Derek can’t help but feel proud of the baby boy.

 

Nate isn’t his son, far from it actually. All he’s been doing is helping Stiles take care of Nate while Stiles works his way through the sudden workload that’s descended out of nowhere. Three cheers for the days leading up to the holiday season. Add that in with how Nate is Stiles’ kid and the first baby in the pack, Derek’s more than a little smitten with the boy. And Nate's dad. Not that he’s ever let Stiles catch onto that.

 

No, Derek’s happy being there next to Stiles, helping lighten his load and _not_ try to push him into a relationship so soon after separating from Marie. Stiles has enough on his plate as it is and Derek is content to help Stiles with whatever he can. And if that involves baby sitting Nate while Stiles works then so be it.

 

When Nate beams at him, Derek feels his heart lighten and decides it's well worth it. Nate is a ray of sunshine in the form of a cheery toddler, always ready with a smile and near endless stream of babbles. Sometimes Derek imagines the three of them as a family and not, Stiles and Nate and Derek who is just here to help. Only sometimes. When Derek feels strong enough to deal with the painful ache that comes with that thought.

 

Ignorant of Derek’s thoughts, Stiles points at himself and asks again, “Who am I?”

 

“Dada!” Nate squeals.

 

“That’s right! And who’s this?”

 

Derek stares down at Stiles’ finger in surprise, and then at Nate who repeats, “Dada!”

 

Uh. Well. That’s. His heart expands until it feels like it’s straining against his ribs, all this happy-warm-pleased emotions bubbling to come out of him. When Nate slaps his hands against the floor and repeats “Dada!” before crawling over, Derek doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s just instinct to scoop the babe up into his lap and let him rest there. But he dare not look at Stiles to see his reaction.

 

Turns out, he doesn’t have to worry when Stiles leans in to tickle the baby’s belly and says, in a voice low but warm with promise, “That sounded kinda okay to me. What do you think Derek?”

 

Derek forgets how to breathe thanks to the breathless edge of Stiles’ question. His mouth goes dry as a bone when he jerkily lets his head come up to meet the other man’s gaze. What he sees in Stiles’ face makes him _shake_ and answer, “Yea. That sounds great actually.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [dorlgirl](http://dorlgirl.tumblr.com)  
> Stiles bringing cupcakes home and licking the icing off Derek’s fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/65038123631/stilinskisparkles-stiles-and-derek-bashing)

Stiles isn't too fond of sweets. He just alright with them. Sure he has a deep fondness for apple pie, a good cheese cake and chocolate cakes but that's about it (cookies don't count because cookies are their own food group). Cupcakes therefore, are not his thing.

 

Until Derek.

 

Derek's got the biggest sweet tooth in the whole group (which, go figure! If you look at the man, you couldn't tell he can pack an entire chocolate cake away _on his own._ If Stiles hadn't seen that with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed it either). This is something everyone knows. But it's only after they start dating that Stiles slowly develops a fondness for cupcakes.

 

How you ask? Simply really.

 

Derek loves cupcakes more than any other dessert, particularly the ones they sell at Doris’ Pastry Shop. He can be convinced to do practically anything if promised 2 dozen of old Doris’ mint chocolate cupcakes. When Derek's mad at him? Stiles will get apology caupcakes (raspberry with white chocolate) and beg for forgiveness.

 

But more often than not, Stiles swings by the shop to buy a treat for Derek because in his books, Derek deserves all the treats he can. Plus, Stiles logics, every cupcake is what? 200 odd calories? They can totally work that off through an hour and a half of incredible sex. Total win-win situation.

 

So whenever he gets Derek a cupcake, Stiles likes to watch the werewolf enjoy the frosted treat before capturing his fingers in a firm grip and suck the sweet frosting off them.

 

He loves the way it makes Derek’s eyes go dark before he’ll grab Stiles and kiss his breath away. Stiles will then drag Derek away to bed, mumbling about how much sex they need to have and how they really need to get enough frosting to cover Derek in it so that Stiles can lick his boyfriend clean. Derek will always laugh and pick him up, carry him to bed and screw the idea out of him. Until next time anyways.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18\. For [derektheactualsourwolf](http://derektheactualsourwolf.tumblr.com)  
> It's been a year now and Derek still gets this strange dissonance when he steps into his... _their_ home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/65038123631/stilinskisparkles-stiles-and-derek-bashing)

It's been a year now and Derek still gets this strange dissonance when he steps into his... _their_ home and throws his keys into the bowl Stiles had made for him during that couples pottery class. He takes a moment to stand in the foyer, swaying slightly as he soaks in the quiet around him. As he takes in the smell of home and Stiles. Derek feels like a stranger in his own body, staring blanking at the crooked photos on the wall, the brightly colored afghan on the lumpy sofa and wonder,  _'Is this really my life now?'_

 

These moments are far and in between long stretches of domesticity and peace, making them all the more jarring for Derek. The werewolf takes his time going upstairs, pausing to touch one object or another. He stares at the pictures they'd put up together on the staircase, pausing every so often to smile faintly at some memory and thinks, despite it all, he is blessed. With every step Derek reminds himself that yes, this is his life now and it is  _good_. He deserves it after everything that has happened.

 

He's been through hell and his life now is amazing. It is the good kind of monotonous - breakfast at 7:30 (11 on weekends), lunch at the office and dinner with Stiles around 6. There isn't a thing about his life that Derek would change. And he has no desire to change anything in his past either, out of the fear or losing this beautiful present he has now.

 

The thought of losing what he has now, losing him and Stiles isn't a thought he can bear. Derek slips into their bedroom, careful not to make any noise in case Stiles wakes up. But his partner sleeps on, facing away from the door and curling into Derek's pillow. Derek can't make Stiles face out but he easily sees the rise and fall of the human's chest. If he strains his vision, he can make out a fading hickey on Stiles' back. Stile smells nothing but content as he sleeps in their bed. 

 

No. He wouldn't give this up for the world.

 

Derek quickly sheds his clothes, crawling into bed from the other side so that he can press his nose against Stiles' forehead.

 

The human stirs, blinking hazy eyes open to peer at Derek. "Mmm. Yer back." Stiles slurs, lips twitching up at the corners. Warm hands creep around his waist to tug him closer so that their knees knock together. 

 

"Yeah." Derek whispers, shifting with Stiles until they're rearranged in the middle of the bed. Stiles lies on his back, holding Derek against his chest as he breathes heavily against the werewolf's forehead. He makes a happy noise before tightening his hold on Derek before falling asleep. Derek stays awake a little while longer, listening to Stiles breathe, to his heart beat before closing his eyes and falling asleep as well.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19\. [haleofanight](http://haleofanight.tumblr.com)  
> Barista!Stiles trying to woo Derek through latte art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by #12 on this list](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/71081138225)

"Your order." Derek glances down at his cup.

Stares at it.

 Stares at it long and hard before shooting the grinning barista behind the counter an irritated look. "What the hell is that Stiles?"

"A flower!" Stiles chirps, bouncing slightly on his feet. He looks more like a child instead of a 19 year old college student that he is when he acts like how he is. "I've been practising my latte art."

Derek closes his eyes, counts to 10 and back before grinding out, "I always get no foam. _Why_ are you practicing latte art on _my_  coffee?"

The barista doesn't flinch in the slightest at Derek's angry tone. Rather, he seems amused by it. Stiles gestures down at the cup between them. "It's the same drink as always just with some foam on it, don't get your pants in a twist! It's just a pretty flower."

A flower? Derek eyes the drink and the art on top of it. " _That_ looks more like a demented smiley face." He's sorry but it does! 

Stiles' mouth fell open in shock before he yelpes, "Take that back! You take that back right now! I spent precious, valuable time to make you a flower!"

"Demented smiley face." Derek repeats, turning the cup around to prove his point.

He watches and waits, trying not to smile when Stiles squints at the cup before blanching. "Okay, I see the demented smiley face. God that's creepy. You can't drink that. Let me make you another. Without the creepy face art."

"Yeah. It is." Derek answers, pulling a stirring stick out of the nearby rack, using to quickly get rid of the design. "But don't bother. I'm fine with this."

The barista flaps his arms in distress at Derek, looking ready to tackle the business down if it comes down to it. "I coulda made you a new one." Stiles points out in a low whine.

Derek shakes his head as he throws the stick away, smiling slightly at the distresses teenager. "This is fine. Thank you. Just no more foam art. Bad enough you keep experimenting with my order."

Stiles huffs, playing along with what has now become their joke. "Making it better." Stiles corrects with a grin. "Today's order includes an extra shot of hazelnut and mint."

Mint and hazelnut huh? Derek sighs as he pops a lid on his cup, hoping Stiles had put more mint than hazelnut in the drink. He's not too fond of mint in general, much less in his coffee. But Stiles has yet to lead him wrong when it had come to coffee. Barring the latte art incident of today.

"I'll tell you tomorrow how I liked it." Derek says, taking a step away from the counter. "See you later Stiles."

"Yeah." Stiles gives Derek a tiny wave and a smile. "Same time as always, right?"

Derek salutes the barista with his drink, smiling faintly as he wonderes whether or not tomorrow would bring more foam art.

Maybe Stiles would finally take the plunge, make a foam heart and ask him out. Derek hopes so. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [imalphanow](http://imalphanow.tumblr.com)  
> Jock!derek trying to hide his crush on freshman!stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from #11 on this list](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/71081138225)

As he stands over Stiles, watching the freshman pant for air, Derek wonders if maybe he's overdoing it. Sure he's got a crush the size of Texas on the brown eyed freshman and Derek's been trying like hell to keep it under wraps but pushing him extra hard on the field, to the point even Jackson had told him to lighten up, might have been the wrong thing to do. Maybe...

 

What? He's scared Stiles might find out about his feelings! So sue him if his stomach tries to turn inside out when he's around Stiles and he wants to just run the other way every time Stiles tries to talk to him! Derek can't help the way he feels around Stiles! It's either act like an idiot in love or try to act like he's not affected at all!

 

So Derek continues to stand near Stiles' head, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot as he wonders how to fix this particular situation. And if there's any way to correct any bad impression he might have made on Stiles. 

 

"Should I get you some water?" Derek finally asks, belatedly realizing it might be friendlier to crouch down rather than stand menacingly over Stiles. That's a friendly gesture right? Not hinting at any deeper motives besides wanting to help?

 

The freshman nods, fingers twitching in the grass. "Yeah. Lots of water. Can y' drag my ass to the Pacific? I think I might be able to drink it dry."

 

 

With a quick chuckle, Derek is up on his feet and jogging towards the bench in a heartbeat. He pulls out his own water bottle and takes it back to Stiles, who drains it dry in several loud gulps which has Derek shifting for new reasons.

 

 

He looks up at the sky, thinking about cloud formations and atmospheric pressure and not if Stiles sucking his dick would cause the same sounds. Derek only looks down when Stiles makes a pained noise. He's flooded with amusement as Stiles shakes the bottle to get the last few drops out before flopping back down.

 

"I can't feel my legs." Stiles moans. "Are you this tough with all freshmen or am I special?"

 

 

He hopes he doesn't blush when he thinks 'Yes, you are special, just not in the way you think.'. Instead, Derek clears his incredibly dry throat to answer, "You've the potential to be great at lacrosse." Derek's looking away at Coach trying to explain/yell something at Greenburg when he says this. He looks down when he feels the bottle pressing into his knee.

 

Stiles is grinning up at him, all teeth and good natured humor when he asks, "So that means I **am** getting special treatment? Sweet." Oh what Derek would give to always have Stiles look at him with such warmth.

 

 

The highschool senior clears his throat as he gets up on his feet, "Your words, not mine. On your feet, you've had enough of a break." He ignores Stiles' groans and offers him a hand up, feeling tingles race down his spine when Stiles accepts his help.

 

Stiles' hand is warmer than his, making his palm feel unnaturally cool when he pulls away with a muttered, "If I pass out I'm sending you my hospital bill." Derek gives the boy a friendly tap on the shoulder with his lacrosse stick. "Less whining, more running."


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 21\. For [littlecofiegirl](http://littlecofiegirl.tumblr.com)  
> A poor attempt at a rockstar AU where Stiles is the drummer of a popular indie band and Derek who has a one night stand with him. The morning after.

It took a couple of drowsy moments for Derek's brain to come online. The second it was, several thoughts occurred to him at once.

 

 

It was too early to be awake considering he was up till the ass crack of dawn having sex with the dude he'd brought home from the club last night.

 

The guy sleeping next to him still looked **really** familiar to him and Derek was still failing to understand why. At least tt was good to know that the familiarity wasn't just the alcohol's doing.

 

 

And someone's phone was buzzing somewhere in his room. Over and over again like an annoying fly. It was probably what had woken him.

 

With an irritated grunt, the man planted both feet on the floor and shuffled over to the nearest pair of discard jeans, passing by his underwear. The second he picked them up, he knew he had the wrong pair. The buzzing continued, coming from the nearby pair of jeans. Derek bent down to pick up the second pair, pulling the cell phone out from the backpocket while yawning and hitting the green button.

 

"Hullo?" He greeted sleepily, wondering who was calling him at this nutty hour. Scrubbing his hand over his wet eyes, Derek gave his head a quick shake, trying to wake up.

 

There was a pause before an unfamiliar feminine voice, sharp and **loud** , snapped back, "Who the hell are you and where's Stiles?"

 

Stiles? Who the hell was Stiles? Oh. That was the guy wasn't it? Derek glanced at the bed and the unmoving lump on it. "He's still sleeping."

 

 

"And who are **you**?" She asked, voice heavy with disapproval.

 

 

Frowning at the woman, whoever she was, Derek answered, "No one important. Let me just. Hang on." Walking over to the other side of the bed, Derek gave Stiles' shoulder a hard shake.

 

It took a few good shakes but Stiles eventually groaned and cracked one irritated eye open. "What?" He groused in a rough voice, eyeing the cellphone Derek was holding out like it was covered in stinky cold. "'s for me?"

 

 

When Derek nodded, Stiles made an irritated noise before snatching the phone out of the other man's hand and put the phone to his ear. And immediately winced at whatever the woman was saying.

 

 

Derek felt awkward in his own bedroom, a rare feat, watching Stiles sit up and fumble through an apology ("Sorry Lydia! I slept through the alarm! No, no, it's no one. Hang on.") before hopping out of bed (butt naked) and into the bathroom with an apologetic look on his pretty face.

 

Pretty face.

 

The words made something click inside his brain, allowing him to remember _why_  Stiles seemed so familiar! He was part of that indie band his baby sister liked! And if Derek remembered correctly, Stiles was the drummer. Not to mention Cora's favorite. What was the group's name again? Wasn't it a play on little red riding hood? Or some other Grimm's fairy tale?

 

Derek sat down on the bed, mind reeling as he remembered everything they had done in his bed,  and in the **club**. Had he really just had sex with a celebrity? What the hell should he do now? Offer Stiles breakfast? Let him leave? Could he ask for Stiles number? That was something he'd wanted to do last night. Derek remembered asking Stiles that, mouth buried under the younger man's open jaw. But that was before he knew who Stiles was! Could he still ask the man now? What if he just played along? Acted like he hadn't recognized Stiles?

 

He was scrubbing a hand over his face, unsure of what to do, when Stiles came out of the bathroom, voice sheepish. "Sorry about that. Umm hope you don't mind but I kinda need to bail."

 

Derek nodded, remaining seated as he watched Stiles pull his clothes on. "Was that your girlfriend?" He asked lightly, eyes lingering on Stiles' skin and the marks he'd left there, wishing for...

 

Stiles' quiet laugh jerked him out of his half formed fantasies. "No! Just a friend. I was supposed to be at her office half an hour ago. We were going to have lunch together and she thought I stood her up." He turned around, hands pulling the graphic tee down his lean torso. Derek's eyes strayed to the thick happy trail he'd buried his nose into just hours ago. A longing sight welled up in him, wishing for more time with Stiles.

 

"I had fun last night." Stiles murmured quietly, coming to stand in front of Derek. Just out of reach and looking really fucking delectable. 

 

Deliberately opening his legs, Derek waited for Stiles to take his wordless invitation and step closer. He was delighted when the other man stepped between his parted knees, eyes appreciatively lingering over Derek's covered hips and shoulders before coming up to Derek's face when he said, "Me too. Maybe we can do that again sometime."

 

"Yeah. Maybe." Stiles replied, hands coming to rest as light as feathers on Derek's shoulders. "If you give me your number then we can make sure it happens a lot of times." 

 

Smirking up at Stiles, Derek rubbed his circles into Stiles' hips with his fingertips. "I'd like that."

 

"Yeah?" Stiles asked hopefully.

 

"Yeah." Derek agreed. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 22\. For [Amy](http://elegantlydisastrous.tumblr.com)  
> Artist!Stiles comes to potter!Derek for some help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by #10 on the list](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/71081138225)

“Maybe I’ll get it better if I... you know, try it myself?” Derek looks up from the wheel, meeting Stiles’ hesitant gaze dead on. The artist is glancing between Derek’s hands and the clay revolving on top of the wheel with an odd look - it’s hesitant, hopeful and something which Stiles quickly hides behind a shy smile. “Think you could teach me how to do the whole... thing you do?”

 

To his ears, and Derek’s pretty good at picking these kind of things up, Stiles’ words sound very much flirtatious. He’s heard it from dozens of other people, men and women alike. All of them showing off their best feature - showing off their cleavage, fiddling with their hair, standing or sitting in a way to accentuate their legs, batting coy lashes at the potter. And Derek has shot them all down without mercy. He’s not interested in helping anyone who isn’t serious about the craft. If they want to flirt then they can look elsewhere.

 

But Stiles. Stiles has been different. Derek can tell Stiles is attracted to him but he’s also been an excellent student, of sorts. He’d shown up saying he’s here on Finnstock’s orders, for a crash course on all things clay before the professor has a meltdown at Stiles’ inability to work the wheel properly. Stiles has listened to him, examined all of Derek’s works with an intense kind of focus and touched them with an odd reverence. Like every piece was made of finely spun sugar rather than solid clay.

 

It’s the memory of Stiles quietly listening to him, putting the lessons above his own desire, which make Derek nod. He rubs the half-dried clay off his hands, scrubbing his palms together over and over again when he says, “Come here.”

 

But the younger man hesitates, looking around for a second stool but Derek quickly slips off the one he’s been sitting on. “Here. Come on. Put the apron on.” He waits patiently for Stiles to scramble over to the other side of the shed, grab the green apron, tug it over his clothes before running over to throw himself down into the empty stool. “Foot on the pedal, now gently press down. Right.”

 

He sticks close to Stiles, close enough to hear him breathing as he murmurs instructions to the art student. It’s also close enough to get a good whiff of Stiles’ scent - paint thinner, oil paints maybe and something cleaner. Maybe soap or his deodorant? Derek finds standing flush against Stiles’ back, whispering right into the man’s ear, “Take it easy. You’re too stiff.”

 

Stiles lets out a frustrated groan when the vase he’s shaping goes lopsided. Derek huffs his laugh into Stiles’ shirt, arms going around the other man’s body until he’s got his palms pressing into the back of Stiles’ hands. “Like this.” Derek ignores the way his position strains his back and thighs, focusing instead on the feel of Stiles’ hands and fingers under his own. He feels Stiles shallow breathing, enjoys the quiet hitch of it when Derek’s nose bumps into Stiles’ cheek. “Gently. Don’t force it.”

 

Derek smiles faintly at the wondrous gasp Stiles lets out as the clay takes shape into a simple bow with a wide rim. “This is kind of like magic.” Stiles murmurs, face turning as he speaks. His nose bumps into Derek’s lips, making the pair jump apart with a start. Derek’s heart beats heavily inside his chest, growing heavier when Stiles blushes and clears his throat. “Uuuh. I think I can...”

 

“Yeah.” Derek answers breathlessly. “I need to go...” Turning around, Derek quickly walks out of the shed and towards the furnace _outside_ because Derek needs some fresh air.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23\. For [For Bubbles](http://stileslovesderek.tumblr.com)  
> Forehead kisses!Sterek

He’s not sure where he read it but forehead kisses right? They’re supposed to be a sign of platonic love. Stiles turns his nose up at that. Turns it right up towards the sky. Forehead kisses are _so_ much more than platonic! Or can be, that’s what he’s trying to say here!

 

Before Derek, Stiles used to think of forehead kisses as just... something you do to someone to show you care. To comfort them. He’s got several memories of his mother pressing her lips to his forehead while he tries to read a story, stumbling over every third word but doggedly carrying on. Stiles remembers his father kissing his forehead before telling him to go to sleep, turning the lights off on his way out. Caring and comforting see?

 

But after Derek? Forehead kisses. Well. Stiles supposes the best way to put it would be to say that his view of those kisses expanded? Because _their_ kisses? They express so much more!

 

A blessing, a show of love, a plea - they express a million different messages through the tender contact.

 

When Derek has to leave home, for a few days or a short errand, he’d kiss Stiles’ forehead or hair and tell him to lock the door. When Stiles has to leave for work before Derek, he’d drop a kiss right between the werewolf’s relaxed eyebrows and whisper, “I’ll be home for lunch okay?” When Derek would stagger up to him after a bad fight, Stiles would grab his face and kiss his forehead hard, _so_ relieved that Derek was okay, still standing, _alive_.

 

It’s just their thing at this point. If they start off sitting side by side on the sofa watching something? At some point, one of them will migrate into the others arms and get a kiss in their hair before going back to watching whatever. Stiles is well used to waking up in their bed, feeling Derek’s lips mashed into his forehead, breathing heavily in his sleep. He likes taking hold of Derek’s face, tipping it down and kissing away the frown lines whenever they show up.

 

Platonic love? Please. in Stiles’ books, forehead kisses are the sign of the _ultimate_ relationship.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24\. For [Anna](http://wolwiegirl.tumblr.com)  
> King Derek falls for his manservant Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from #08 on this post](). I really wish this was longer but I just couldn't figure out how OTL

Derek flicks his fingers impatiently at the chamber maid poking the fire when he hears the three sharp raps. It feels like he's been waiting _hours_ to hear the knocking sound. His patience has worn itself thin by now, eagerness flooding him along with hot anticipation. 

She's glancing between him and the door, poker still in hand. The girl straightens, clearly ready to see who has come to visit him at this late hour. "Leave it." He orders her, stopping her before she can take even a single step. "That will be all. Tell Henry I won't need him tonight. I can disrobe myself."

She doesn't even blink in surprise. She simply bows her head, putting the poker back before scurrying out the double doors without a murmur. The click of the door sounds as loud as thunder in his ears. Loud enough to drown out the eager beating of his own heart. Derek makes sure the main door is locked before heading to the side door from where the knocking had come.

The royal throws it open, smiling at the brown haired servant standing there. Derek takes in the ruffled brown hair streaked with what Derek guesses is flour, his hand raised up to knock once again and his eyes, those pretty brown eyes of his. Stiles' eyes twinkle as he bows, grinning cheekily as he greets, "Your Highness."

Derek rolls his eyes, grabbing Stiles by the wrist to drag him into the room. "How many times have I told you to call me Derek when we're alone?" He asks in a low growl, pushing Stiles back against the door.

The servant hums pleasantly, not at all worried about being trapped by the prince. "I've lost count. You tell me _a lot_ of things to be fair." Derek shivers at the sensation of Stiles' clever fingers sneaking around his waist, pulling his shirt out of his pants. That coupled with the throaty, suggestive tone Stiles uses, shakes several memories lose in his brain. Yes, he _has_ told Stiles  _a lot_ of things hasn't he? 

"Derek." He breathes against Stiles' mouth, wondering how the words feel against Stiles' tongue.

Delightful if the way Stiles' shivers is anything to go by. "Derek." Stiles purrs, rolling the name on his tongue like it's a rare delicacy. His hands are pressing against his lower back now, pulling Derek close. Derek follows easily, his own hands pulling on Stiles' clothes until he's touching delicious, pale skin. Their mouths meet over and over again in gentle kisses while their feet lead them back to the bed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 25\. For [stilinskiese](http://stilinskiese.tumblr.com)  
> MD!Derek gets a birthday present from his intern, Stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from #6 on this list](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/71081138225)

After giving his desk, and the parcel sitting on top of it, a long hard stare, Derek gave up and yelled, "Stiles!". He took a certain pleasure in the way his sudden yell  made the intern sitting outside his office jump in his seat and bang his elbow into the table. "Get in here!" He ordered, taking care to stay a few feet away from the gift wrapped present on his desk.

 

 

The bright eyed man was by his side in a flash, brown eyes flashing behind his glasses as he asked, "What's up bossman?"

 

Derek was horribly tempted to give Stiles _another_ lecture on the proper ways to address your boss but one problem at a time. He pointed at the box and asked, "What is  _that_? And what's it doing on my desk?"

 

Stiles stared at the red and green box before turning to face him, drawling, "A present. Duh."

 

Derek shot Stiles an unamused look, not appreciating his sass not one damn bit.  The intern held his hands up defensively, "Okay okay fine! It's your present. Birthday present."

 

The Managing Director blinked, taken aback at Stiles' words. "It's not a... it's not my birthday." He didn't think anyone in the office even _remembered_ he had a birthday much less  _when_ it was. Derek had heard some of the rumors floating around about him, especially the ones which guessed him to be an android instead of a human. 

 

"Not today," Stiles agreed, rubbing his shoes against the carpet over and over again. His ears turned pink as he explained, "But your birthday's on the 25th right? I just. Thought you might like a birthday present more than a Christmas one. I know you said we weren't obligated to get our bosses a Christmas gift but I just. I figured you might like a birthday present more. I didn't.. it's alright right? I didn't overstep or anything?" 

 

Derek doesn't know how to answer him. He just doesn't. All he can do is stare at Stiles, emotions a mess all thanks to this man standing before him.

 

It felt like a lifetime ago when he'd celebrated his birthday, and even longer when he'd celebrate Christmas with his family. The last person to give him a birthday gift on the 25th had been Laura and she... Derek shook his head, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "It's fine. ... thank you."

 

Stiles looked thunderstruck for a split second before beaming at him. "You're welcome." 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 26\. For [bilesandthesourwolf](http://bilesandthesourwolf.tumblr.com)  
> shy!derek crushing on firefighter!stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by #7 from this list.](http://eeames.tumblr.com/post/71081138225)

When Cora had asked him to support her decision to become a firefighter, Derek had agreed mostly out of self preservation. He knew if he didn’t agree, Cora would get mad at him and then. Well. He hadn’t wanted to think of all the ways she’d try to show her anger towards him. So he’d supported her 100%, going so far as to talk to their parents on Cora’s behalf.

 

He wasn’t surprised that Cora passed all her tests with flying colors, or that she wanted him to come down to her station and meet her co-workers. Derek had sighed at the text and agreed to be there the next day. He drove to Cora’s workplace determined to spend exactly 20 minutes with her, minus the grand tour, to make sure her coworkers were good people and then leave.

 

But when he caught sight of one of her fellow firefighters (“Hey Stiles! Come over here and meet my brother.”), Derek found himself tongue tied. His eyes darted between Stiles’ sparkling eyes, smiling mouth, broad shoulders, bony wrists, long legs - lather, rinse, repeat. Derek hadn’t know what he wanted to stare at first (or most). “Derek, this is Stiles. Stiles, my brother. Ignore the frown, that’s his natural face.”

 

And then Stiles laughed, which sealed the deal for Derek. He stared at the younger man, feeling breathless enough to feel sacred about passing out. “It’s nice to meet you Derek.” Derek felt inexplicably shy when Stiles held his hand out, tempted to rub his sweaty palm against his jeans before shaking Stiles’ hand.

 

The timid feeling crept up his neck in a hot flush, spreading across his cheeks as he muttered, “Yeah, you too.”

 

Cora immediately groaned-laughed, “Oh God. I knew it. I just knew it!”

 

“Knew what?” Stiles asked curiously while Derek glared at her, hoping his desperate eyes would be enough to keep her mouth shut.

 

Thankfully, Cora chuckled and held her hands up. “You’ll figure it out soon enough. Oh man, this is going to be good.”

 

“Ignore her.” Derek spoke gruffly, still holding onto Stiles’ hand. “She has her moments.”

 

“Look who’s talking.” He heard Cora muttering under her breath.

 

Derek threw her another glare before looking back at Stiles, who was chuckling, "I'll take your word on that. Um. Can I have my hand back?" For a moment he stared at the firefighter before glancing down to where Stiles was shooting meaningful looks to. Oh crap. Derek dropped the man's hand quickly, feeling an embarrassed flush race up his neck. Thankfully Stiles did nothing more than laugh and stick his hand into his pocket. "So Derek. What do you do? Cora's never said."

 

Uuuh. What _did_ he do again? Crap, he was so gone already. "Finishing my Phd." Derek answered. 

 

He felt a curl of heat race through him and settle around his ribs at the interested look Stiles gave. "Phd huh? Tell me more."


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27\. For [Cor](http://teamsciles.tumblr.com)  
> Scott has had it with Stiles acting like Derek isn't nuts for him and just tells him so. The results are ....

Because the situation had gone from funny to desperate to really pathetic, Scott decided to intervene. He'd honestly thought that either Derek or Stiles would have done something by now! But they hadn't. They were still dancing circles around each other while everyone else was banging their head into the nearest flat surface, bemoaning the pair's stupidity.

Scott had had enough of the situation, knowing that he someone didn't upset the status quo, neither of the pair was going to make a move. Meaning, one of them had to be forced into making a move. Meaning he had to first make one of them aware of the other's feelings. Which was why he sat Stiles down and straight up told him, “Derek’s in love with you.” It was straight, to the point and left _no_ wriggle room for Stiles to make any kind of stupidly wrong assumption.

 

It also made Stiles come close to having a panic attack. A completely unexpected side effect.

 

“No he doesn’t!” Stiles wheezes from where he’s trying to become one with the sofa, blue cushion trapped between his arms.

 

Scott sighs, almost pitying the way he’s forcing Stiles to accept reality. But this is for the greater good! “Yes. He _does_. You haven’t seen the way he looks at you okay? It’s like. He thinks you’re better than curly fries and chocolate milkshakes.” Scott can't think of a more meaningful comparison, so sue him. But it's enough to make Stiles freeze, groan and tip forward, groaning all the way down until the sounds are muffled thanks to the cushions in which he's smashing his face into.

 

His best friend should have gone into drama at this rate. Really. He's got talent for it. 

 

Scott rolls his eyes and sighs. “C’mon!” He tries to coax Stiles back into a vertical position. It's no good but Scott keeps trying. He's an optimist that way. “That’s a good thing isn’t it! Now you know he likes you just as much as you do him!”

 

“I love you Scott, I do but,” Stiles whines loudly from where his nose is smashed into a beige pillow, “give me a moment to process this okay? My heart needs time! I thought Derek just put up with me because you and him are buddies or whatever but this is just...” Scott peered in concern at Stiles when he made an odd garbled noise before trying to smother himself on the pillow. “Jes gimme a minute.” Stiles said in a highly muffled voice.

 

Scott patted Stiles’ back sympathetically. “Take your time.” Clearly his friend needed a lot of minutes to deal. Then Scott can plow forward with the evidence Stiles will no doubt ask for.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [Chasing](http://chasingshhadows.tumblr.com)  
> TA!Derek Hale is an actual life ruiner okay.

Stiles very clearly remembers the first time he'd crossed paths with Derek Hale, the TA for his English Lit. class.

 

 

He'd just taken his seat, barely in time for his class, when Derek Hale had walked into the class. The girl next to him had immediately leaned in to hiss, "That's Derek Hale. I've heard he a life ruiner, like **actual** life ruiner. Like his last girlfriend? Got sent to jail because she didn't agree with him about what flavor of ice cream was best."

 

Stiles remembered giving the girl an odd look because really? The rumor mill was outdoing itself with that one. Additionally, he'd only ever talked to the girl once to ask her if the professor had written 'Gough' or 'cough' so the sudden gossip was unexpected.

 

As it turned out, she was right. 

 

Derek Hale **is** a life ruiner. Just in a different way than the way she'd warned him. His everything had  _ruined_ Stiles for  _life_. His eyes, his voice, his  _brains -_ Stiles all of Derek Hale in his arms, bed,  _life_ like yesterday. And it pains Stiles  _deeply_ that he can't have him.

 

He doesn't realize how much Derek's affected him until it's been a few months.

 

Stiles had initially thought he didn't like Derek because of the less than favorable comments the TA had written on one of his better papers. Which prompted Stiles to start complaining about the man to Scott. He quickly found himself complaining more and more to Scott about Derek's sharp wit, deeply sarcastic commentary, intelligence, eyes, legs, Henley's, ass until Scott had finally groaned and told him to shut the hell up. "Either shut up or kiss but seriously Stiles! Do something! I'm going to tear my ears off if you keep doing this passive aggressive flirting thing." Stiles had tried defending himself but the 'I call bullshit' look Scott had given him. Well. 

 

But how can Stiles shut up when Derek Hale has ruined him for life? He just can't! He's going to talk about it until he's blue in the face and or someone takes action against the man! Preferably him. The NC-17, explicit kind of action.

 

The point is someone needs to do something before something drastic happens to Stiles. Like passing out thanks to Derek Hale's amazing ass and half smiles. He could fall down and hit his head! Where would Stiles be then?!

 

Stiles thinks about this again when Derek tells him to stay once class is over. _'Oh God that glare shouldn't be so hot'.'_ Stiles wonders if he's broken in some way if he finds being glared at such a turn on. Or maybe it's just a Derek thing? 

 

He whimpers internally as Derek eyes him over his glasses and asks, "Are you feeling alright?"

 

"Me? Peachy keen dandy!" Stiles chirps, hoping so hard that Derek isn't a mind reader. He sure as hell doesn't want his TA finding out he's fantasizing about pushing him against the whiteboad and kissing thet glare away.

 

"Why do you ask?" Derek eyes him oddly before continuing, "You seemed distracted today."

 

Could he get away by blaming Derek's tight, tight grey jeans and red sweater combo for that? Because oh man. Man oh man. They are _distracting_.

 

Stiles is very glad he's worn loose shorts today when he fidgets and mumbles, "Sorry. Just had a lot on my mind." 

 

Derek peers him before nodding, "If... if you need to talk to someone. I'm here. For you. To help."

 

Derek's extremely awkward offer makes Stiles blink in surprise. The TA is giving him an intense stare made softer thanks to the blush on his cheeks.  

 

Certain that his brain cells were frying the longer he stares into Derek's eyes, Stiles rambles, "I'll do that. Come to you to talk I mean. I can talk a lot though. I might talk your ears off and you wouldn't want that cause you need your ears." Oh God would someone slap his off button to keep him from babbling?

 

He's relieved as hell when Derek smiles at him, "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't ready to take that risk."

 

Is that? Oh  _God_.

 

Someone call 911! Derek Hale is flirting with him! 

 

With a weak laugh, Stiles takes a step back and hoped he wasn't going to trip and fall on his ass. "Never pegged you for a risk taker." Which was huge mistake. Huge.

 

Derek's body language goes from friendly to interested (like interested-interested!) so fast Stiles feels short of breath and dizzy. "For the right people, I can be a risk taker."

 

There. See. Fucking life ruiner.

 

Someone seriously needed to call 911 like, yesterday!

 

Stiles wasn't going to make it! 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. For [renqa](http://renqa.tumblr.com)  
> AU where wolf!derek saves Stiles and Scott while they're being bullied

 “Give that back Jackson!” Derek hears the childish voice easily, pausing as he drinks his fill from the creek. “Come on, stop it! Scott needs his inhaler!” More than one child if the shouting and laughter is anything to go by. Derek glances at the creek longingly. He’d thought to take a quick bath in the cool water and spend the rest of his day in his den. But if people were nearby then he ought to leave. Who knows, maybe the children were related to some hunters.

 

Licking his muzzle, Derek stares through the trees and wonders what the children are doing so deep in the woods. “Don’t be an ass Jackson!” The boy keeps yelling, moving to and fro as Jackson and whoever he’s with keep laughing and taunting.

 

If he strains his hearing, Derek can hear the shallow rasps of someone having trouble breathing. The facts click neatly into place as soon in seconds – one of the boys needs his inhaler and his Jackson, is bullying him. That won’t do at all. Derek doesn’t think as he pads away towards the group, skulking through the trees like a dark shadow. As much as he wants to help, he won’t risk his own life in the process of doing so.

 

 “If you want it then come and get it Stilinski.” Derek catches sight of a blonde haired boy throwing an inhaler at his friend, also blond. They can’t be older than 12 at most and they are indeed bullying two other boys, dark haired. He’s assuming Stiles is the boy who keeps trying to catch the inhaler as Jackson and his friend pass it to each other and Scott must be the boy wheezing on the forest floor.

 

A threatening growl grows in his chest at the sight. He remembers all too well the time one of his youngest human cousins had been taunted by some of the older werewolves for having asthma, telling him he was flawed and weak and a dozen other things that had made him snap and claw at the teenagers.

 

Before he realizes it, Derek’s bursting out of his cover with a loud snarl that makes all four boys freeze. He jumps between Stiles and Jackson, showing his teeth off at the former before snapping at his heels. Jackson yelps, dropping the inhaler while the other boy makes a run for it. Derek growls louder, hackles rising as he dodges Jackson’s kick before grabbing the boy’s jeans and giving it a good shake.

 

Jackson tries to kick him again but Derek’s faster than that. It takes one more good shake to get Jackson on his feet and away from them. Derek snorts as he watches the blond race away, yelling about feral wolves. He rolls his eyes at the dust cloud Jackson is leaving behind before sniffing around for the inhaler.

 

There. Derek picks the piece of plastic up gently with his teeth, turning around to eye Stiles’ still form before slowly walking past him to dump the inhaler in front of Scott. “T-thanks.” The boy wheezes, eyes wide in surprise. “Did he. Did you just save us?” Derek sits back on his haunches, nosing the inhaler closer to Scott’s limp hand.

 

He hears Stiles crawl up behind him. Glancing behind him, Derek notices the wide berth Stiles is giving him before coming to rest next to Scott. “Here, come on. You need to take a hit.” He murmurs, shaky hands pulling the cap off before handing the device to his friend. Derek patiently waits and watches Scott take a deep inhale of his medicine while Stiles stares between him and his friend.

 

Cocking his head, Derek pays close attention to Scott’s breathing. It takes a few minutes but it does lose the worrying rattle which had been there before. “Dude.” Scott says once again. “I think that wolf saved us.”

 

“Yeah. I think he did.” Stiles says in return, staring at Derek now.

 

“You think he’d let us pet him?” Scott asks hopefully, sitting up on his knees as he wipes his hands clean. He doesn’t wait for Stiles’ answer, beginning to scotch forward carefully.

 

Derek remains seated, huffing when Stiles tackles Scott to the forest floor with a hissed, “Are you  _crazy_?! That’s a wolf not a puppy!” The wolf’s amused noise makes Stiles blink in surprise.

 

Scott wriggles out of Stiles’ grip witha laugh, “I think if he wanted to hurt us, he would have done that by now. Right?” The last word is directed right at Derek. He stares into Scott’s earnest brown eyes and gives him a big grin, letting his tongue loll out to show his complacency “See!” The pre-teen crawls on his knees to him, extending his palm out for Derek to sniff. “He’s alright.”

 

“If he bites your hand off, I’m telling your mom it was all your fault.” Stiles promises darkly, already scrambling forward to be shoulder to shoulder with Scott, hand outstretched towards Stiles. Where Scott’s hand smells like hospitals, grilled cheese and chips, Stiles smells far more interesting. Derek takes his time to sniff the palm, stick his nose under the sleeve of Stiles’ dark hoodie, wondering why Stiles smells so good.

 

He gets a palm on his muzzle for his efforts, a giggling Stiles telling him, “Knock it off! I’m kinda ticklish there.” Derek gives the wrist before him a wide lick that makes Stiles fall back with a shout.

 

Scott chuckles and gently scratches behind Derek’s ear. “Mean wolf!” Stiles declares from the floor.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30\. For [Rena](http://dylanships.tumblr.com)  
> A Knight's Tale AU

“I need to write a letter.” Stiles repeats for the umpteenth time. “Dear Derek. No. My dearest Derek.” He points the blooming red rose at Danny, directing him to write the words down. Scott is trying to clean his nails while Isaac tries to distract the other man by tickling his ear with a hay stalk. 

 

“That’s better.” Danny praises, dipping the quill into the ink pot before carefully writing the words down. “Go on.”

 

Stiles thinks about it, ignoring Allison’s eager gaze. At least one of their group seems invested in his love life. Other than Stiles himself that is. He takes a long sniff of the roses’ sweet smell before continuing, “I miss you.”  

 

Danny immediately sucks in a quick breath. Stiles turns around in surprise, noting his friend’s pained look before asking, “What? Was that wrong? Shouldn’t I say that?”

 

The herald looks at the others, who are now looking at him with undisguised curiosity. “Well. It’s up to you really. It’s your funeral. I mean, letter.”

 

That makes Stiles and Isaac’s eyebrows shoot up while Scott frowns in confusion, “What if he says something about his eyebrows?”

 

“Yeah!” Isaac pipes up with a grin, “You miss his eyebrows.”

 

Stiles eye balls both his friends, slowly repeating their words to highlight their silliness, “ _His eyebrows?_ ”

 

Again, Danny is the one who acts as the voice of reason when he answers, “Maybe not. It would be best to look _below_ his eyebrows.”

 

“Like, his nose?” Stiles answers with greater hesitancy, fingers twirling the long stemmed rose around.

 

Allison rolls her eyes while Danny covers her eyes with a hand, clearly fighting a sigh down. Okay, not Derek’s nose. Stiles waves a hand in dismay, “Well if not his nose then what!”

 

“How about the moon?” Scott suggests, “That’s a romantic notion isn’t it?”

 

Allison makes an agreeable noise as she sides closer up to the man. Even Danny seems approving of the sentiment. Hmm. The moon huh? Stiles presses the rose under his nose and thinks. He thinks of Derek and their last meeting, focusing on the pleasanter parts of it rather than their almost fight. Of his own harsh words.

 

The words come from his heart this time rather than his head. “It is strange to think, I haven’t seen you since a month. I have seen the new moon but not you. I have seen sunsets and sunrises but nothing of your beautiful face.”

 

A tiny, happy sigh from the small group prompts Stiles to look up, feeling his face grow hot. Danny is giving him an approving look with his hand paused on top of the letter. “ _That_ was very good, Stiles.”

 

Isaac speaks up, voice soft as ever. “I used to know this girl who… well, she broke my heart and I used to say that-

* * *

 

_“..the pieces of my broken heart are so small that you could pass them through the eye of a needle.” Derek murmured the words under his breath, feeling his heart swell as his eyes swept over the flowing script once more. “He writes as though I died.”_

_The boy who has brought the message, Isaac if Derek remembers correctly, speaks lowly, “He does, your Grace. And he dies as well.”_

* * *

Danny stares at his hands, not acknowledging anyone’s presence as he talks, voice growing choked as he goes on, “I had a best friend who … I miss him like the sun misses the flower-

* * *

 

_“… like the sun misses the flower, like the sun misses the flower in the depths of winter. Instead of beauty to direct its light too, the heart hardens like the frozen world your absence has banished me too.” Derek lowers the letter, hands and arms growing leaden the more he reads Stiles’ letter. His heart is beating so fast, so rapid, Derek needs to take a moment and press his hand against the nearest table surface for support._

* * *

Continuing to twirl the rose in his hands, Stiles dances in circles around Danny as he speaks, “I next compete in the city of Paris. I will find it empty and cold without your presence.”

 

Quill scratching against the thick paper, Danny murmurs, “Very good. Now. For the ending.”

 

The boys stare at each other for a moment, clearly scratching their brains for an appropriate finishing line or two. It is Allison however, who provides the fitting words. “With ‘hope’.” She says quietly from her place to Scott. “My father told this to my mother, on her dying bed. ‘Hope guides me. It-“

* * *

 

_“It gets me through the day and especially the night. The hope that after you leave my sight, it will not be the last time I look upon you.”Derek is only slightly appalled to find his voice cracking at the last few words. It helps when he hears a wet honk coming from Isaac, who is swiping his handkerchief across his nose before dabbing the corner of his eyes._

* * *

“With all the love I possess,” Stiles dictates dreamily, staring more at the rose than at Danny. “Stiles.”

 

Danny’s quill pauses a moment as he points out, “You mean Genim.” A good part of his good mood floats away at the reminder. Stiles feels his smile slipping away into a pained look before he tries to will his lips back into a pleasant expression before nodding at his friend.

 

“With all the love I possess, I remain yours. The knight of your heart.”

* * *

 

_Derek folds the letter close, pressing his lips together as he tries to rein his emotions. Even a blind man would be able to see the depth of Stiles’ love for him and Derek. Derek doesn’t know how to do. It’s overwhelming to be faced with the proof of Stiles’ feelings for him. He wishes Laura was here and not abroad. He would dearly love the advice of his older sister right now._

_Isaac delicately clears his throat, “My master hoped you might have something to send him in return…”_

_Something in return. Derek glances up into Isaac’s waiting smile and smirks._

* * *

As soon as he catches sight of Isaac riding up to him, Stiles is hurrying up to the man. Isaac isn’t even off the horse when Stiles begins to bombard him with questions. “Did you see him? Did he read the letter? How did he react? Is he coming to Paris?”

 

Isaac shoots Scott an amused look before answering,” Yes, yes, well and yes.”

 

“Yes?” Stiles almost shouts with glee. “He’s coming to Paris?” He grabs Isaac’s arm in delight, almost hugging him as the curly haired man grins back. “Did he give you anything in return? A letter? A  token?”

 

Now Isaac’s good humor seems to take a turn for the worse. He looks away from Stiles’ eager gaze, frowning at the ground, at the horse, looking anywhere but into Stiles’ eyes. It worries Stiles. Makes him expect the worst really. “Just give it to me Isaac!” Stiles begs.

 

Isaac throws his head back, groaning his agony to the overcast sky before grabbing Stiles’ face and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. It’s over before Stiles can process what’s happened. He stares at his friend spitting at the ground and rubbing his lips clean before it clicks. “He? Oh _yes!_ ” Stiles hoots, punching the air in delight. “Hell yeah!”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31\. For [Amy Rose](http://stilinskisparkles.tumblr.com)  
> Just some Xmas silliness courtesy of an angry Christmas fairy

He didn’t know it was possible for the merry sound of jingling bells to sound morose but it his life is strange like that. A lot of things which Stiles held to be fictitious have out to be true – see werewolves, murderous lizards, zombies (see: Peter Hale), banshees, druids, kappas, kitsune, youkai, golems, voodoo and recently, fairies. An effing _Christmas fairy_.

 

“This is why I keep saying we need to attend a training session on communicating within a group.” Stiles declares grimly, feeling like imitating a penguin as he tries to walk alongside Derek. But with the way they’re tied together with tinsel, it’s a terrible challenge.

 

They trip a couple of times on the stairs (it’s a miracle they make it back to Derek’s loft without more damage occurring), right into Scott who warbles a few lines of Deck the Halls before slapping a hand over his mouth in shock. And now they now what Scott’s been cursed with. Isaac’s every step makes him jingle, like he’s got a bunch of bells hanging off every curl of hair. Anything Allison touches turns into eggnog and the more distressed she gets, the more the alcohol content seems to rise. It’s an interesting curse but Stiles can’t imagine spending  _one_   _day_  drinking nothing but eggnog and silently wishes her luck.

 

Erica and Boyd smell like freshly baked cookies, something which makes everyone else groan in hunger. Erica freaks out a tiny bit when she tries to lick her wounded finger clean and yells, “I taste like peppermint candy canes!” Boyd eyes her with interest before quickly pulling her in for a kiss. Which turns into a full blown make out session on Derek’s couch, much to the werewolf’s irritation. “Let em be.” Stiles sighs, trying to waddle over to the open loveseat. “Some of us should have fun with this if they can. Boyd sure must like peppermint candy canes.” The man in question flips him off without breaking away from Erica.

 

“Joy to the world!” Scott sings  _horribly_  off key, managing to pull Boyd and Erica apart with his terrible singing. Stiles wishes his arms weren’t tied down by the damned tinsel. As talented as Scott is, his singing leaves something to be desired. Like ear plugs.

 

Isaac jingles loudly as he slaps hands over his ears and yells, “I hate that Christmas fairy!”

 

“She wasn’t that bad.” Danny tries to placate the curly haired werewolf.

 

Flailing as Derek tries to gnaw through the silver tinsel around him, Stiles grumbles, “You  _would_  say that! She just gave you a crown of holly and made you look… like you are!” If he had his hands then Stiles would wave them at Danny’s everything. The Christmas fairy had only liked Danny, announcing the rest of the pack of be disrespectful of Christmas traditions and immediately cursed them.

 

Except Danny.

 

No, no, Danny looks like he’s been hit on the head twice with the pretty stick. Stiles is pretty sure he’s not imagining the glow coming from Danny, plus the rosy cheeks and brighter than usual grin…

 

“I hate my life.” Stiles complains right into Derek’s ear. “I want out of this pack! I refuse to work with people who don’t listen to me when I’m trying to tell them they’re wrong!”

 

There’s a terrible jingle-jangle as Isaac shifts away from Boyd and Erica, eventually just sliding off the couch to sit down in front of Scott. “We listen to you!” He argues back, cringing as Scott sadly sings a few lines of Jingle Bells.

 

Again, if he weren’t tied down, Stiles would use his hands to gesture wildly at the werewolves in front of him. He settles for wriggling as hard as he can before growling, “If you _did_  listen to me you’d have heard me  _and Derek_  telling you stay  _away_  from the red and gold mist! But noooo! You guys had to go and poke it with your claws!”

 

It’s a relief when Derek pipes up, “Did you forget me telling you that Hale land has more things living in it than just werewolves?”

 

“I kinda thought - _hic-_ y’meant deeeers.” Allison slurs, leaning into Derek’s shoulders sleepily. “Y’ wan’ summa this? Ess greeeeat. Lotsa rum! Or summing.” Derek glances at the dark haired girl before giving Isaac an appealing look to save him. Everyone winces as Isaac moves but it’s better than listening to Scott sing.  _‘Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.’_  Stiles thinks as he manages to get a hand free.

 

Derek waits for Allison to settle in Isaac’s lap, watching her try to force some eggnog on Isaac. “I  _told_  you not to poke around in the woods. Even  _I_  don’t know how many creatures are out there and how many of them my family had agreements with.”

 

“I’m betting they weren’t listening when you were telling them that.” Stiles sighs at the guilty looks he gets from Scott and Isaac. Allison is staring into her empty cup with a sad look on her face and Erica and Boyd are still at it. “This is why I said you need to quiz em once you’re done telling them things.”

 

Scott immediately belts out a good part of Silent Night before Erica growls, “Shut up!” from her spot. “Can someone call Deaton and get him to fix this before I strangle Scott?”

 

Giving himself and Derek a meaningful look, pointing out the lack of their mobility, Stiles says, “Can’t be me or Derek. Or Scott. Or Allison.”

 

“I could try?” Isaac offers, turning his head to look at Erica. When he just moves his head, a pretty tinkling sound rings. The curly haired werewolf pauses, tilting his head left and right slowly as he processes the pretty bell noises before violently shaking his head. “This is too freaking weird.” He declares.

 

“Preaching to the choir.” Stiles sighs, freezing when he realizes the wriggling feeling near his ass is actually Derek’s hand trying to free itself. “Boyd, Erica, call Deaton. NOW.”


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 32\. For [Tyler ](http://pacificwolf.tumblr.com)  
> AU where Derek is a stunt double and Stiles his boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/61578950285/stylestylynsky-derek-as-a-professional-stunt)

Stiles watches Derek undress in the mirror, busily brushing his teeth while his boyfriend changes clothes. It's one of his favorite scenes from their daily lives. Stiles oftens jokes he gets to watch Derek do a strip tease twice a day - once in the morning and once at night. Derek always rolls his eyes, pretending to be exasperated but is actually just amused.

 

He stares at the line of bruises across Derek's shoulders and tries not to sigh. Derek's job of being a stunt double means he tends to get bruised up yes but that doesnt mean he's gotten used to the sight of Derek's skin being littered with bruises. Stiles doesn't think he ever _will_ get used to that. Every mark on Derek's skin makes him cringe. Makes his brain run a million miles a minute as he wonders how Derek got the bruise and how much worse it could have been.

 

His eyes glance over the other darkening marks before stopping at the fresh red ones around Derek's ribs. Stiles quickly spits out thetoothpaste, wiping his mouth clean with his palm even as he turns around to ask, “How the hell did you get that?”

 

Derek pauses, one leg in a pair of sweats before tugging the clothing on swiftly. He looks down to where Stiles is gently touching the fresh bruise, hissing slightly when Stile applies pressure. “Gary.” He explains quietly.

 

Stiles frowns immediately. He doesn’t like Gary or his tendency to screw up stunts which leave Derek hurt. Thankfully it’s never been anything worse than a split lip but Stiles worries a lot. Why shouldn't he after all? “You need to say something about him.” Stiles grouses. "Talk to the director or your boss,  _someone!_ "

 

"Stiles." Derek sighs but Stiles talks over him.

 

"No! I’ve lost count how many times you’ve gotten hurt because he can’t hold himself back or screws up his marker or whatever!" He presses his palm against the angry looking bruise with a frown, keeping his hand there without applying any pressure. "What if something goes wrong in some bigger stunt? I just… I just worry." Stiles’ voice lowers into a weak mumble by the end, one he muffles further by hiding his face against Derek’s shoulder.

 

The older man sighs gently, raising a hand up to touch Stiles’ hair. "If it makes you feel better, I’ll talk to Lee and see what he has to say. Alright?" Stiles nods against Derek’s skin, pulling away with a pained expression.

 

"Should I get the-"

 

"Please." Derek sighs, "It hurts like hell."

 

With a nod, Stiles goes to fetch the first aid kit, grinning slightly when he remembers the Hello Kitty bandages he bought during the last restock.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 33\. For [Zain](http://zainclaw.tumblr.com)  
> Stiles wants to be fluent in the language of Derek's body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by this lovely poem](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/62756252006/sendtheslutbacktohell-this-is-probably-the)

Derek is hands down the most handsome guy he knows but that’s not the reason why Stiles is _dying_ to get him naked. As much as he _loves_ his boyfriend hot as sin body, Stiles wanting to get Derek naked and in his bed has a slightly different motive. See, the thing of it is... a lot of people have seen what Derek looks like under his clothes. He’s not naive. Stiles knows Derek’s probably had a couple of lovers _at least_ and everyone’s seen everyone naked at least _twice_ when it comes to the pack.

 

No, Stiles doesn’t just want to see Derek naked. Stiles wants to learn the finer details of naked Derek. He wants his hands to learn Derek’s body better than they know his own. Stiles wants to count the distance between Derek’s collar bone and nipples through how many times Derek’s breath will hitch. Will it even hitch? Can he do anything to make Derek’s breath catch in his throat? Through what ways can Stiles catch the trapped air and swallow it down, breathing in Derek’s exhale because he’s greedy. Stiles is oh so fucking greedy when it comes to Derek. Is it unhealthy? Maybe. Stiles prefers to think of himself as fiercely protective of the people he loves and he loves Derek _a lot_.

 

Stiles wants to measure in kisses, the length of Derek’s back. In soft, closed mouthed kisses and in wet, open mouthed ones where he takes his time to suck a purple bruise into Derek’s tanned skin. He wants his fingers to move from one vertebra to another, examining what kind of an effect the ticklish touch will have on the werewolf. Stiles wants to sit and study the way Derek's back  _ripples_ with every breath and word.

 

He wants to press kisses to every one of Derek’s ribs and study his ticklish spots, see which places make him squirm and which make him let out helpless belly laughs. Stiles wants to feel Derek’s skin raise with good bumps under his lips, breathing slow and steady to keep the werewolf shivering. He wants to press his cheek to a firm pectoral and listen to Derek's racing hear, and ask if it's racing because of him.

 

Given the chance, Stiles wants to get his hands under Derek’s skin and muscles and juts _feel_ what makes him tick and twitch. There’s an all encompassing urge to learn everything about Derek, to go deeper than the superficial layers and see the parts of him no one else has seen. Or the parts Derek has only shown a handful of people. Stiles wants to tell Derek to trust him, with his words, his trust, his _heart_ because Stiles will guard them all jealousy and pride. Always happy to point out how he’s the recipient of Derek’s most precious parts and no, he won’t share Derek or any part of him with strangers.

 

Stiles wants to be fluent in all things Derek - the different cadences of his voice, the minute shifts of his body language and all the ways he tends to use his eyebrows to speak volumes. He wants to be fluent in Derek, wants to know him inside and out, desires so much to imprint Derek onto his soul so that even if Stiles was to forget himself, he wouldn’t forget Derek. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 34\. For [Donya](http://virtualdon.tumblr.com)  
> Derek goes to get a new suit and the results are NOT what Stiles expected.

When Derek said he's going to get a new suit, Stiles had honestly been looking forward to it.

 

 

Because Derek.

 

In a suit!

 

With his broad shoulders, slim waist and lean legs (not to mention pert ass), the man was bound to look like sex on legs right?. Just imagining his boyfriend wearing a well tailored suit made Stiles want to squirm in delight. It also made him form rough plans to have suit sex with Derek. He could make up his mind between getting Derek to fuck him while keeping the suit on or slowly stripping Derek naked  _and then_  screwing him in the matress. In the end, Stiles opted for both. Time permitting of course.

 

So when Derek came home with his new suit tucked away in its bag, Stiles had pushed him straight into the bathroom and told him to change. The sooner Derek got into his suit, the sooner Stiles could take him out of it.

 

 

He was tempted to bounce on his feet, so fucking eager to see Derek. Stiles felt like he was 14 instead of 2 as he waited outside the bathroom. Stiles was ready to start pacing the bedroom when he heard the tell-tale click of the door being unlocked. Turning around, Stiles beamed at the door creaking open.

 

But the second Derek came into view, Stiles' smile slide off. 

 

He stared in shock at Derek before finally spitting out, "What the hell is that?"

 

 

Where Stiles had expected a well cut suit showing off Derek's shoulders, waist, legs, EVERYTHING! But this suit was making Derek look like a human sized, black brick!  Derek's self concious look became more so when Stiles waved his hands at his boyfriend, asking, "Derek! What the hell!"

 

The werewolf looked down at himself, scowling heavily at himself, "What? What's wrong? I was supposed to get a navy blue suit with a white shirt right?"

 

With an irritated little hand flap, Stiles tugged on the too loose blazer. "That's not how a suit is supposed to look on a dude!"

 

"It's not?" Derek asked skeptically, clearly not understanding what Stiles was talking about.

 

Stiles nodded, patting his pockets down for his cellphone before looking around for the landline. "Totally not. It's not supposed to be that damned loose! We gotta call Lydia. She'll fix this. Or know someone who can fix this ASAP."

 

While he hit speed dial 4, Derek was still frowning at himself. "I still don't get it. Isn't it supposed to be loose?"

 

Stiles moaned at his boyfriend, srubbing a hand over his face. "No, Derek. That suit looks like you borrowed it off your great uncle. Who's two sizes bigger than you." He could just imagine all the faces Lydia was going to make when she lays eyes on Derek wearing this suit. No way she was going to let him wear this to Scott and Allison's wedding.

 

As soon as Lydia picked up, Stiles was off like a shot. "Hey Lydia, we got a bit of a suit emergency here. Derek got his suit back but they fucked it up and well. It's not pretty."

 

She snorted prettily, "This is why I told you to let me take care of the suits for you. You owe me $5 by the way."

 

"Put it on my tab." Stiles rolled his eyes with fond amusement, "And we'll remember that for the next wedding."

 

"You'd better. Now, meet me at Johnny's in 15. Bring Derek and the suit." She hung up without saying good bye, leaving Stiles to sigh at Derek.

 

"Jimmy's?" Derek asked, already heading back for the bathroom to change while Stiles grabbed his wallet and keys. "Yeah. He's like the David Copperfield of suits. He'll work his magic and make you super hot, like you deserve to be." Stiles quickly herded his boyfriend out the door, grinning as he imagined the faces Derek was giong to make when Lydia insisted to make everything tighter and more fitted.

 

Good thing he's got his phone on him. Stiles was going to take  _a million_ pictures.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 35\. For [Greenberg](http://greenbergsays.tumblr.com)  
> Check the kink warning, that is all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Explicity  
> **  
>  Kink: Spanking + implied use of a paddle

He trembles, up on all fours and ass in the air on display. For Derek. Only for Derek. There's no one else for whom Stiles would even _consider_ doing this. Stiles is shaking so hard in anticipation he thinks he’s going to break. He can almost taste the pleasure-pain of what is about to come (heh, come), tempted to spread his legs and show off his heavy balls and dick to Derek. All in the hopes of pushing Derek into action.

 

But he’s a good boy. He’ll stay in position until Derek wants him to move and not before that. Stiles is going to stay on all fours, breathing deep and heavy as he waits. Waits. Waits.

 

He’s wondering what the damned hold up is when the first slap hits his ass.

 

Stiles’ body jerks forward immediately.

 

His cock drips precome down onto the sheets as he groans, “Fuck.” The second he’s done, Derek’s hand slaps his ass again. Stiles whines this time, fingers clenching in the sheets as he drops his head down. He gets a perfect view of his hard cock, staring at the long sticky line of precome dripping down, down, down until it breaks when Derek slaps his ass again.

 

“You’ve been a good boy haven’t you Stiles?” Derek asks, cool fingers sliding over Stiles’ hot ass. God it feels so good to have Derek’s hands over his tingling ass. The stringing sensation feels _worse_  whenever Derek's warm hand slides over his pink skin. Stiles wonders if he's got Derek's handprints on his ass now. Or maybe multiple prints. God that's going to make sitting down a tiny bit of a problem in the near future. If his ass is going to keep on stinging like this, then every time he'll sit down? Stiles is going to imagine this moment and pop a woody. And that's gong to make going to classes  _very_ awkward.

 

Stiles tries to wriggle back into the gentle caress Derek is bestowing his ass with, moaning when his ass gets squeezed tenderly. “You’re gonna get your present now. Are you ready for it?”

 

Stiles shivers when he hears Derek pick the paddle up, nodding eagerly even as he answers, “Yes.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 36\. For [Heather](http://bloominheather.tumblr.com)  
> Random college AU where Derek has a bit of a crush on Stiles. And fogged glasses are a terrible evil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired partially from these images.](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/60879949205/characterdevelopmentwrites-devildoll)

Don’t forget to pick me up on your way back okay?" Derek reminded Laura as they pulled up outside the brick building. It was raining cats and dogs outside, the sound of pattering rain echoing in the Camaro. Visibility was shit and it didn't look like the rain was going to let up anytime soon. The weatherman had forecast the rain to let up in another few hours but from what Derek was seeing, he doubted it.

 

The brunette waved a lazy hand at him, rolling her eyes at the reminder. She turned to glare at the Porsche behind her, flipping the honking car the bird before answering her brother. "Yeah yeah, I know. I’ll be back in an hour. Just give me a buzz when you’re done and I’ll come pick you up right here so that your pretty hair won’t get all wet. Wouldn't want _Stiles_ to think you don't look anything but perfect right?"

 

 

He glared hard at her. Why did she always have to tease him? Siblings. Some days Derek wished he was an only child.  "Wouldn’t want him  to see you wet and all would we?” Laura cooed teasingly, expression swiftly turning contemplative before she said, with all seriousness, “Actually you should let him see you wet. You’re wearing your white tshirt under the sweater right?”

 

Derek rolled his eyes at Laura’s words, ignoring the embarrassed feeling that arose in him at the thought of Stiles seeing him dripping wet. Jeez. No, nope, never. That wasn't ever happening. “See you later.” He said pointedly, pushing his glasses up his nose before darting out of the car.

 

Laura's bright laugh was cut short as he slammed the door shut. The college student ran up the steps leading into the building, cursing himself yet again for forgetting his umbrella. Derek held his bag over his head to prevent the rain from falling on his head and was mostly successful. While he solved  _that_ particular problem, it only took taking two steps out of the car for Derek to realize he had a bigger problem on hand.

 

He’d forgotten about his glasses. They had fogged up instantly, cutting his visibility to zero. Dammit. He'd forgotten about that. This was _precisely why_ Derek preferred contacts over glasses. But he'd cracked one of the lens right before class, meaning he'd had to dig his backup glasses out of the pile of junk he kept in his nightstand. And now here was, in the middle of the rain with fogged over glasses, running up slippery steps!

 

And he still had a bit to go before he was safely out of the rain as well! He couldn't even stop to take his glasses up, clean them and begin the slow trudge up! No, he had to deal with them and pray no one got in his way! Derek tried to rub his glasses clean by rubbing his wrist against the frame as he ran up the steps but it was no good. The condensation was on the inside.

 

He all but growled in irritation, trying to make his glasses wriggle down his nose enough for him to see where he was going. On the bright side, he was almost at the top now and could wipe his glasses clean. 

 

Derek had just gotten to the landing when he felt a warm body collide with his. One minute he was vertical and the next Derek was on his ass on hard marble, groaning under the weight of the other person who had fallen on him with a startled but familiar yelp. “Stiles?” He asked incredulously, glasses _finally_ knocked down his nose, cringing at how his tailbone was killing him. Oh God, that was going to hurt later on.

 

Derek pulled his glasses off to check his guess. Yep. It was Stiles. He was kneeling over Derek's thigh, curling into himself, groaning as he clutched his forearm. “I think I hurt my arm.” The freshman hissed in pain.

 

Panic welled up in him, making him glance around them helplessly before asking, “Do you need to go to the nurse?” Did they even have a clinic or anything on campus? Could they run there in the rain?

 

He quickly wiped his glasses clean, plopping them back on his nose as he watched Stiles test his range of motion. “I think… I think it’s just a sprain?” Stiles said hesitantly. “I’m okay really.”

 

Ignoring Stiles, Derek took hold of the freshman’s wrist and gently turned it this way and that, watching Stiles’ reactions. “You shouldn't stress it more. Don’t take notes today. I’ll give you mine. And then go get your writs checked.”

 

Stiles began to argue back, lightly tugging his wrist back, out of Derek's warm grasp. “It’s no problem really.”

 

“Stiles.” He said sternly, tightening his grip just so to make his point. “Take my notes.”

 

Derek found himself licking his lips as a pink blush bloomed over Stiles’ cheks. “Well. If you insist.”

 

Smiling faintly, Derek’ thumb stroked the inside of Stiles’ wrist before answering, “I insist.”

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 37\. For [Sarah](http://reliand.tumblr.com)  
> AU where human!derek is saved by werewolf!stiles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by this post](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/61578320379/daunt-helenish-devildoll-au-where-stiles)

Fear runs thick and heavy through his body, keeping him on the forest floor as he watches this… this…  _person_  jump out of nowhere between him and this  _creature_  (because it  _can’t_  be a human! Not with those red eyes which  _glow_  in the dark! And those  _fangs_ and  _claws_  which have ripped through his shirts!), roaring in a way that makes Derek want to piss himself.

 

He remains on the ground, watching the newcomer tackle the creature. Derek stares at the fighting pair, brain  _screaming_  at him to get up and run run  _run you stupid bastard before you get hurt!_  He’s got a death grip on his bag, more worried about his samples than his own stupid life. ‘ _Is this some kind of defense mechanism_?’ Derek ponders as the strange head butts the creature and yells, “Son of a  _bitch_! You’re a total hard head!”

 

 _What_? Derek stares at the man before him, wondering how he can say shit like that when he’s fighting with some demon or something! Then he feels his blood freeze when he catches a flash of gold in the stranger’s eyes. He’s ready to yell when the creature behind the newcomer tries to attack. The stranger whips around, snarling loud enough to jerk Derek out of his paralysis. He’s scrambling back when the stranger buries his fingers into the creature and grunts, “ _God_  you smell  _horrible_! Scott owes me  _big time_!”

 

Derek continues to scuttle away from the non-human until his back hits a tree. It’s just the support he needs to push himself on his shaky knees and ask, “How…  _what_  are you?”

 

The stranger lets the creature fall down, poking him with the toe of his sneakers before turning to eye Derek. “Don’t suppose you’d believe me if I said this was just an old Halloween costume?”

 

He shakes his head immediately. The roar, the  _claws_  and the eyes just don’t… “No.” Derek answers hoarsely, wondering if he’s going to die for seeing something he shouldn’t have. His mom and dad are gonna be devastated… not to mention his siblings.

 

“Damn.” The stranger sighs, stepping forward so that the moon light hits him. The first thing Derek notes is that he’s younger than him. Probably in high school. The second thing he notices is the fly away hair. Like the boy can’t keep his hands out of his hair. Sure enough, there’s a hand coming up to sweep through his dark strands as he walks forward.

 

And trips over something to fall flat on his face, scant inches away from Derek.

 

Derek jumps and blinks down at the teenager. For his part, the teenager groans. “I hate this forest.” He complains from the floor.

 

“Hey!” Derek snaps automatically. This land has been in his family for generations and there’s no  _way_  he’s letting some  _punk_  bad mouth it. Even if the aforementioned punk just saved his life.

 

The teenager ignores him as he gets up to his feet, hands slapping his clothes free of leaves and dirt before eyeing Derek. “You okay? He didn’t hurt you did he? Oh crap.” Derek presses back against the tree as the teenager hurries forward, eyes locked on Derek’s ribs. “He didn’t bite you did he? Here, lemme…”

 

Derek has to slap the teenagers hands away, yelping, “What the hell?! Stop that! This is harassment!”

 

“This is for your own good! Tell me he didn’t bite you!”

 

Why the hell was this guy sniffing so loudly? Did he have a bad cold? Derek growls as he slips out of the teenagers grasp. “No! He just got me with his nails.”

 

“Claws. And let me see. Please.”

 

After staring long and hard at the stranger, wordlessly asking him  _why_  Derek ought to trust him (to which he gets an expectant look back), Derek sighs and pulls his shirt up. “No touching.” He warns.

 

He notes the way the teenager’s eyes go to the bleeding gashes, to Derek’s abs and too quickly back to the wound. Derek tries not to smirk when the teenager clears his throat, voice a bit on the rough side when he asks, “Just claws right? He didn’t get you too deep did he? Tell me he didn’t bite you.”

 

Derek shakes his head as he turns slightly, giving the teenager a better look. “No. He just nicked me.”

 

He stands still during the teenagers appraisal, wondering what he’s looking for. And why is he still  _sniffing_. “You’re lucky. I think if you go home and clean this up, it won’t get infected.”

 

“And how do you know that?” Derek snarks pulling his shirts down.

 

The teenager taps a finger against his nose with a wink. “I got a good nose.”

 

“And claws apparently.” Derek mutters, “You didn’t answer my question before.  _What_  are you?”

 

The teenager sighs, scrubbing his hand through his hair before answering, “How about I take you to my leader and see how that goes?”

 

“How about no.” Derek replies saccharine sweet. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me who you are and  _what_  you are because you are  _not_  human.”

 

“I hate the smart ones.” The boy complains before pulling his cell phone out. He hits a few buttons before raising the phone up to his ear. “Hello? Yeah, hey Scott. Listen, I found the rogue omega. Yeah I took care of it. Problem is, we got a situation on our hands. Possible Slayerette.”

 

Slayerette? Derek scowls at the teenager. Was that a Buffy reference?

 

“No, he’s not going anywhere! And I’m not telling him, it’s totally  _your_ responsibility! Who’s the alpha here! Last I checked, it’s  _you_!” Alpha? Omega? What the hell has Derek stumbled upon? All he had wanted was to get a few plant samples!


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 38\. For [selfproclaimedalpha](http://selfproclaimedalpha.tumblr.com/)  
> Glasses and kissing don't really mesh well together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from these images.](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/60879949205/characterdevelopmentwrites-devildoll)

Derek sees the realization flash in Stiles’ eyes, followed swiftly by delight and acceptance. It all happens in the space of a millisecond - Stiles processing the nonverbal cues Derek's putting out, processing them, reacting and accepting them. All in a millisecond.

 

 

All of his nervousness flies away when Stiles closes his eyes and tilts his head just enough to signal, yes, I’m ready and waiting for you to kiss me. Relief rushes through him like the tide over the beach. Derek hears white static in his ears, growing to a deafeaning level when Stiles parts his lips just so.

 

Bringing a hand up to cup Stiles’ jaw, Derek enjoys the tiny shiver that runs through the other man. He strokes his thumb against Stiles' jaw in the hopes of the shiver repeating itself or coaxing an echo of it out. He breathes in Stiles’ shaky exhale, leaning in the final few centimetres so that their lips can touch and then, there’s a loud clack. 

 

They both jump in surprise, pulling away a couple of inches with their hands hands flying up to touch their glasses. Stiles is the first to respond, groan-laughing even as his cheeks go from pink to red. “Oh God that was embarrassing.”

 

Derek shares in his laugh, feeling an idiot for forgetting that they _both_ wear glasses. His laughter dies a swift death when he sees Stiles’ hands coming up to his face. Derek holds his breath as Stiles gently takes his glasses off and murmurs, “Take 2?” He can only nod dumbly in the wake of Stiles' beaming smile.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 39\. For paranormalnerdburger  
> The last person Stiles expects to actually lean on him for support is Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired from this lovely fanart](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/59624488618/hoax1918-derek-dont-say-a-word-stiles)

When he feels someone warm and broad bump against his back, Stiles just assumes it's Scott. There's only four of them inside the warehouse and Isaac's probably still otu cold near the entrance. Derek's probably checking to make sure the creepy wraiths are well and dead. Which leaves Scott behind as the only logical choice of people who would just come up behind Stiles and lean on him for support. And Stiles doesn't blame him.

 

It's been a tiring few nights where they've been chasing their own tails while trying not to get their souls sucked out of them. As it turns out, Dementors and Nazgul were inspired by  _wraiths_. It's going to take Stiles a while to get over this which means no Harry Potter or Lord of the Ring marathons in the near future. But atleast now they're done. Meaning everyone can look forward to  _at least_ a night of sleep. And if they're lucky, there won't be any more sleepless nights for a week. Maybe more if luck holds!

 

Stiles wonders if asking for a week free of baddies might be pushing it, standing still and generally letting Scott nuzzle, sigh and rub his nose into his shoulder. It makes him feel a little bit weird because hey if Scott wants some good ole fashioned human contact, Stiles is totally up for a big hug. But if this is what Scott wants then well, Stiles is going to give him this. If only he could find someone or something to lean on as well, that'd be super nice. The adrenaline is wearing off, letting Stiles know exactly how tired he is. His legs are kind of trembling actually. Stiles looks longingly at the nearby pillar. It's only a couple of feet away but with a tired werewolf against his back, it might as well be in Antarctica.

 

It's still a little weird though. How Scott isn't saying anything that is. Stiles squirms slightly when he feels Scott's hair tickling the little patch of skin between his hair line and shirt collar, holding down a quick bark of ticklish laugh. The pressure at the base of his neck increases, like Scott is pressing his nose or maybe forehead harder against Stiles. It worrisome now, how long Scott has just stood behind him and not said a word. He's ready to ask if Scott's alright when he hears something from in front of him.

 

Stiles feels the blood in his veins freeze as he stares at Scott stumble on a broken crate, glaring at the offended piece of rotting wood before meeting Stiles' eyes. He glances behind him, glare softening. Okay. So at least Stiles knows its not sometihng bad behind him. Which means....

 

"I'm going to go see if Isaac's alright." Scott says loudly. "You guys alright?" 

 

Feeling more than a little dumb, Stiles nods and watches Scott walk away to the entrance, giving all scattered debris on the floor a wide berth. Stiles uses the opportunity to jerkily turn his head around to see if the person leaning on him is indeed the person who he thinks it is.

 

Yep.

 

It's-

 

"Derek?" He squeaks into the soft hair brushing against his cheeks. Ugh, that's kind of ticklish actually. And right in his mouth. Spluttering slightly, Stiles tries to pull away enough to get Derek's hair away from his lips. The werewolf cracks an eye open to look at him.  Stiles holds his breath, not daring to move a single muscle as Derek sighs, low and long. "Don't say a word Stiles."

 

It's because how tired and world weary Derek sounds which softens Stiles' tone. "Wasn't planning on it." Stiles admits quietly, tempted to press the apple of his cheek into Derek's hair to test its softness. The thought is here and gone, like a dragonfly touching the surface of a lake before flitting away. It's startled enough to make Stiles question where it's come from but also to make him blush a tiny bit.

 

The werewolf sighs a tired chuckle before leaning more on Stiles. "Just a few more minutes." And he leans more on Stiles now. Like Stiles  _knowing_ suddenly means Derek can press his nose into Stiles' hair and press his chest into the teenagers' back. Stiles feels like his entire back is on fire, relishing the warm contact with Derek. 

 

Stiles shakes his head, looking forward, wishing he had the courage to reach back and touch Derek properly. Or maybe turn around and give Derek a proper hug. "Take your time dude. No rush." He winds up croaking insteady, hoping Scott and Isaac will take their time.


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 40\. For [Emerald](http://queensbeesknees.tumblr.com)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Inspired by this photoset](http://onelastwaltz.tumblr.com/post/60782518195/x)

They’re in school, 4th period, when Stiles finds out. Scott accidentally lets it slip that Derek’s left town and Stiles. Stiles doesn’t know how to feel.

 

No. That's a lie. He knows exactly how to feel.

 

He feels betrayed. A bit jealous that Derek can just up and leave without any prior notice. Hurt that he’s getting this information _second hand._  And mostly a bit relieved. If anyone needs some time away from Beacon Hills it’s Derek and Stiles wishes him well. No really. He does!

 

Or he tries too anyways.

 

Stiles’ hurt grows as the day progresses, turning into a dark cloud hanging over his head. It sours his mood and kills his appetite, making it harder and harder to concentrate on whatever the teachers drone on about. It’s only when he gets home and sees the leather jacket folded on top of his bed that Stiles feels better.

 

 

He stands in the door way of his bedroom, staring at the jacket for a long moment, wondering if he’s just imagining it there, before pouncing on it. Stiles pulls it open and immediately checks the pockets, hoping, hoping, hoping for some message or note.

 

 

There’s a note in the right pocket, in Derek’s hand. ‘I’ll be back for this.’ is all it says. Stiles stares at single line, feels his shoulders sad with an exhale and thinks, ‘Good.’ 


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 41\. For [epickiu](http://epickiu.tumblr.com/)

Stiles leans heavily against Derek, who is manning the stove, groaning into the werewolf’s neck, “I hate my boss. Can I get Lydia to turn him into a toad?”

His boyfriend snorts and pats his arm. “No, you can’t. You know she can only turn people in birds.”

“How about a pigeon then?” Stiles grumbles, resting his chin on Derek’s shoulder. “No. Wait. Scratch that. That asshole might start shitting on my Jeep then. How about a finch? I could keep him in a cage, see how HE likes it!”

The vehement tone makes Derek dryly point out, “You work in a cubicle, not a cage. Stop being over dramatic. Here,” He holds the spoon out for Stiles. “Taste this. It’s not too spicy is it?”

Stiles blows on the piece of meat perched atop the spoon before delicately taking it into his mouth with a hum. “Needs more spice.” He breathes out, moaning softly in delight. “God, that tastes good! You havent made stew in a while! What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion.” Derek answers easily. “Just wanted to.”


End file.
